In From the Cold
by FoxyLady86
Summary: Currently suspended.
1. Everywhere You Go

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: PG-13 for some mild swearing. Hopefully the rating will be going up as the story progresses…

Disclaimer: I own nothing unfortunately. Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (wonderfully portrayed by Paul McCrane) and any other ER characters mentioned belong to Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people. I wish I did own them, but I don't. This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes: A few things to know. In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella. Takes place sometime before "Lockdown". It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe. Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Feedback: Yes!! Always wanted!! Send it to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com. Please r/r!

In From the Cold: Chapter 1

It couldn't have been more than a few degrees, well Celsius anyway, she hadn't a clue what it was in Fahrenheit. Why did the Americans have to use such a strange scale was beyond her. Why not start at zero like everybody else did? Well it didn't really matter, Celsius or Fahrenheit, it was bloody cold.

Elizabeth Corday hopped from foot to foot, in an effort to try and restore some feeling in her extremities. She had been standing outside in the snow for at least half an hour, although she wasn't wearing a watch so she didn't know how long exactly. She sighed. This was ridiculous, a grown woman acting like a teenager. All she had to do was ring the bell. It wasn't as if she didn't know he were in. He was in. She could faintly hear music, somebody playing a guitar she thought, inside the building, and unless she was mistaken, she could hear him singing along occasionally. But what if he was in there with somebody? Another woman? No there couldn't be. She remembered what Shirley had told her, there wasn't anybody else. _Don't be such a child. Just ring the bloody bell. _

She pressed the buzzer, the music stopped, and almost immediately, there was a deafening barking as some creature flung itself against the door. Elizabeth smiled; at least the dog had recovered well. The barking continued, growing more intense, as the dog scratched against the door. 

"Gretyl, come on girl, move would you? That's it, that's a girl, good girl."

Elizabeth smiled at the kind soothing tone; he really did love that dog. But why? How could he love a dog so much and yet be so cold to those around him? Always closed off, always sharp and cutting as though he were afraid to let people get close. It intrigued her. Yes, he was an arrogant, insulting bastard. But there had to be a reason for it, something had to cause that type of behaviour. It concerned Elizabeth that she had known him for several years but knew very little about him. Did anybody really know him? Did he ever give anybody a chance to?

The door was pulled open with considerable force, and she was face to face with Robert Romano. The annoyed expression on his face disappeared when he recognised his visitor, and changed to one of surprise and concern. 

"What is – Lizzie? What are you doing here? You look half frozen! Uh, come in, Christ your hands are blue! Don't you wear gloves in England? One of those "class" things is it? Not high enough up the social ladder?"

Elizabeth let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding. At least he didn't seem to be angry, that was a good start. Why was she worrying so much? She was here to spend some time with a colleague and friend; at least she wanted him to be a friend. That was all. No hidden agenda. Although she couldn't help but take in his appearance. Slim fitting black jeans, a dark red v-neck t-shirt, and a pair of Nike trainers. Slightly different from his blue scrubs in the OR, or his various assortment of suits, she thought, but it did look good on him.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I Robert? I-I don't want to intrude or anything-"

"Yeah? Well I don't want to have to take you to the ER later with frostbite. Come in, I won't ask again."

Elizabeth stepped in, shaking her head of curls, sending snow flying everywhere. Snow, about an inch thick, had settled on her jacket. The majority of it slid off and fell to the floor, and onto a disgruntled Gretyl, who yelped and ran down the hall, into a room.

"Hey! I asked you to come in; you're not supposed to bring the damn snow in with you. Give me your jacket." 

"Everywhere you go you always take the weather with you" Elizabeth quoted. " Are you not in the festive season Robert?"

"It snows here all year round Lizzie. That doesn't mean I have to act like Santa."

"Well that'll never happen Robert. I think Father Christmas is taller, and of course more humorous."

It was fun, sparring like this. They had something together, a wonderful chemistry. Yes, he could be annoying, and arrogant, and rude, and – well so much else. But there were times when she saw another side of him. Something more human. He kept that side very well hidden, but he did have it. She had seen it when he brought his dog into the ER, when they operated on Lucy Knight, and many other times. Just a look, or the tone of his voice said so much. And was much more meaningful than his usual sarcasm and bluster.

He looked up at her, brown eyes twinkling, "Well maybe you could take up the job?"

Elizabeth gasped, "Robert Romano are you calling me fat?"

"If the shoe fits Lizzie." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Uh, well then, come on, I wanna find Gretyl, you scared her off." He spun round and walked down the hall, turning into the same doorway the Bouvier had. Elizabeth had no choice but to follow him. 

The living room was large and spacious, decorated in a vaguely Victorian style, and led into the kitchen where Robert was hunting for something in a cupboard. Along one wall of the room was a large book cabinet, containing medical reference books, along with a sizeable collection of novels. Elizabeth grinned when she saw copies of The English Patient, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, and Watership Down. An interesting selection, that was for certain. Not the type of books she had envisioned Robert enjoying. Gretyl was stretched out on a rug in front of a three seater settee, a few chairs formed a semi circle with the sofa around a glass top table. Elizabeth smiled, that dog was spoilt. Like an only child with at doting father. Child. She wondered if Robert had any children, or a wife for that matter. She had never asked, and he had never volunteered any information on the subject. 

"Drink Lizzie?" The question brought her out of her musing. Robert was standing in the kitchen holding two glasses.

"Um, yes thank you."

"Wine ok?"

"Fine."

"Red or white?"

"White please."

Robert seemed satisfied and appeared carrying a bottle of white wine and the two glasses. "Sit down. Don't mind Gretyl, she won't bite."

Elizabeth grinned, stepped carefully over Gretyl and sat at one end of the settee. Robert followed suit and sat at the other end, uncorking the wine.

They talked, briefly about work, how hectic their schedules were, how badly the ER was understaffed, how Robert was doing his best to fight for more funding. After a short time, a comfortable silence settled between them.

"So….Elizabeth…"

"Yes Robert?"

"What brings you here so close to Christmas? Surely you should be out enjoying yourself?" Robert allowed her to taste the wine before filling her glass completely, and then pouring himself a glass. He sat back and looked at her quizzically.

"Well, I-I thought you might enjoy the company actually. I didn't want to spend another night alone with the television."

Robert nodded silently, absently rubbing Gretyl's stomach with him foot. He didn't seem upset, or offended that Elizabeth expected him to be alone. Or surprised that she suddenly wanted to be friendly despite their uneasy working relationship.

"I know how you feel."

A trace of surprise crossed his features, as if he didn't mean to say it out loud. He cleared his throat loudly, and topped up his glass, even though he'd only taken a mouthful. Elizabeth realised that he was embarrassed and smiled slightly. How could she learn more about him when he was so closed off? Well, she was going to try.

"You have a beautiful home." She did like it, but it did make her a little bit uncomfortable. It seemed so big and imposing and impersonal. She was sure it must have been very expensive, more than she could afford certainly. There were no signs of photographs of family and friends, or many personal touches at all. It didn't really looked lived in. 

He glanced at her and smiled slightly. "Thank you. I like it here, I think Gretyl does too, though she doesn't say much on the subject."

"Ah, the strong silent type?"

"Just like her owner Lizzie."

Elizabeth laughed. "Hardly Robert."

"Did you come over here just to insult me Elizabeth? I think you do quite enough of that in the OR already." 

"Robert I've known you for years, you are anything but silent. I'm sure Gretyl's only quiet because she can't get a word in edgeways."

"Oh really?" Romano raised his eyebrows. "Hey what d'you think Gretyl?"

The giant dog raised her head, stared at them both, and resumed her position stretched out on the floor, exhaling heavily.

Elizabeth grinned at Robert's annoyed expression. "I believe I win that one Robert."

"Hmmm, no treats for her tonight anyway."

"How long have you had her?"

Robert looked thoughtful for a moment, "Six, maybe seven years. I got her when she was just a puppy, she was a hell of a lot smaller then. She grew so quickly I was scared she'd end up taller than me. Please don't comment on that. You got any pets Elizabeth?"

"Not at the moment, I don't have time, my boss keeps paging me into the OR at ungodly times." Robert snorted at that. "I used to when I was a child, my mother gave me a horse for my twelfth birthday. The next year I was sent to boarding school so I hardly saw him. They sold him eventually; it wasn't fair to keep him, especially when my mother took an interest in him. She had him in so many dressage competitions, I swear the animal rolled its eyes when he saw her coming."

"I used to ride, a long time ago." His eyes took on a far away look, as though he were remembering something that happened lifetimes ago. Then he suddenly seemed to snap himself back into reality. "How about dogs?"

"No, my mother wasn't fond of dogs, unless you count those hideous toy breeds. And spaniels, she loved spaniels."

"Dogs are wonderful creatures Lizzie, they give love unconditionally, and they forgive all your faults. Incredibly loyal, loving, intelligent animals."

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment. Then said quietly, "There are people like that Robert."

"Really Lizzie? I'm afraid I'd have to disagree with you there. Have you eaten tonight?"

She was thrown for a moment by the sudden change of subject. Then realised that she had not eaten anything since she woke in the morning. A particularly difficult GSW had prevented her from making it to the canteen at lunch, and she hadn't had time for a snack from then on for the rest of the day.

"No, I haven't actually."

"Good, I was just about to make something. How do you feel about spaghetti?"

"Oh you don't have to – " 

"I'm making it anyway."

"In that case spaghetti is fine."

"Good, follow me Lizzie, Gretyl."

Elizabeth followed her host to the kitchen, Gretyl padding gently behind her. The kitchen was large, and simply decorated, the walls mainly tiled. A large dinning table stood in the centre of the room with several chairs, a dog basket lay next to the fridge, toys spilling out onto the floor, all the kitchen units were modern, and to her surprise she noticed a washing machine. Robert Romano washed his own clothes? Did he know how to iron? The image of Robert with an iron just didn't quite click for some reason. 

"Have a seat Lizzie." He said, gesturing to the table, "This shouldn't take too long."

"You don't want any help?"

"Nope, I don't want my food to suffer from post-op infection thank you very much."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and took a seat, glancing round the room, absorbing her surroundings. She smiled as Gretyl walked over to her basket, nosed around, making sure everything was just so, and then collapsed. 

Robert noticed this and sighed, "Obviously had a busy day."

Lizzie laughed, "Quite."

There was a comfortable silence as Robert prepared the food quickly and confidently, obviously he was used to cooking. Elizabeth let her gaze wander again, and then noticed a guitar propped up behind the couch in the living room.

"You play the guitar?"

"Yeah, since I was a kid."

"You sing as well?"

He turned from preparing the mince, "How did you know that?"

"Oh, I-I heard you, when I was at the door. You've got a lovely voice."

He turned back, but not before Elizabeth noticed a slight blush colouring his cheeks. She was amused, who would believe that Robert Romano blushed? She always thought of him as the type of person who lapped up compliments. If she was mistaken about that, she thought, who knew what else she would discover.

"Thanks."

"Any chance of a live show, uh, I mean, guitar, that you could, um, play?"

Now it was her turn to blush, she could feel her face burning, red tones creeping into her pale skin. Oh, that really had sounded awful, a "live show"? Good lord. But Romano's reaction surprised her. He turned and grinned, "Dinner and a show? Well you never know. Maybe we could get Gretyl to dance and do a few tricks as well?"

Gretyl raised her head at the sound of her name, looked at them quizzically, then dropped her head back onto her forepaws and yawned.

"Yes I'm sure she has far more star potential and charisma." Lizzie shot back, trying to cover her embarrassment. God, she'd only been in his house for half an hour and she was already making suggestive comments, "live show" indeed. She wanted to get to know him as a friend, didn't she? That was all. Just a friend. Oh god she was an idiot.

Robert looked at her, then at Gretyl, back to her, and raised his eyebrows. "You really think so?"

"Possibly."

"Only possibly? Very diplomatic of you Lizzie."

"Yes Robert, a quality that you are obviously not familiar with."

"I'm sorry. Did you say you wanted arsenic with your meal?"

To be continued..

Please r/r! Send feedback to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com


	2. Ben and Jerry's

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: PG-13 for some mild swearing. Hopefully the rating will be going up as the story progresses…

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (wonderfully portrayed by Paul McCrane) and any other ER characters mentioned belong to Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Also, I'd just like to thank everybody for their reviews…its always nice to be appreciated!  You made me feel happy after a really, really bad day…..thank you all.

Feedback:  Yes!! Always wanted!! Send it to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com.  Please r/r!

Chapter 2

"Bon appetite."

"Oh Robert, it looks wonderful."  And it really did.  Certainly a higher calibre of food than she was used to eating.  A picture of Robert in a chefs hat and apron ran through her mind.  Robert Romano, master chef.  Lizzie couldn't help but chuckle.

Romano looked at her quizzically as he poured her another glass of wine and then took a seat at the other end of the table.  "Did I get the arsenic confused with the laughing gas again?  I really must re-label those bottles." He said dryly.

"Sorry Robert.  How did you learn to cook like this?"

"You haven't tasted it Lizzie, you might be in for a shock."

"Oh I don't think so."  She carefully twisted the pasta round her fork and lifted it to her mouth.  She glance up and saw Romano looking at her intently.  The moment their eyes met a faint blush spread across his cheeks, and he looked away.  Had Robert been staring at her?  Or was he simply waiting for her reaction to the meal? He had blushed twice this evening, maybe he was coming down with something.

"Out of books.  Y'see I actually know what they put in McDonalds burgers and crap like that.  Once you work there, you never eat there.  And all that other microwave crap, at least if I cook it I – what are you laughing at now?  If you're going to comment about me in a McDonalds uniform, don't bother."

Elizabeth tried, valiantly, to control her laughter. "I'm sorry I'm sure you looked, uh, uh," She searched for an appropriate word. "lovely."

Robert snorted.  "Clashed with my hair."

"What hair?"

Robert raised his eyebrows.  "Miaow, Lizzie."

There was a loud rustling sound, as Gretyl clambered out of her bed and made her way to Robert, dropping her head on his knee.  He ruffled her fur gently. "Hey girl, did we wake you?  You here to defend you're poor, harmless owner from this vicious Brit?"  He looked up at Elizabeth, trying his best to look wounded.  She smiled in return, amused by his affection for the Bouvier, she truly did seem to be his best friend.  He was like a little boy with his pet dog, his faithful companion.

"The spaghetti is wonderful Robert, really."

"Glad to hear Lizzie."

They ate in companionable silence.  Robert seemed entirely comfortable, in fact Elizabeth didn't recall ever seeing him so relaxed.  At work, he was either shouting orders, winding people up, or concentrating 100 percent on the task in hand.  She admired his dogged determination, his complete confidence when operating, the way he could talk nearly anybody around to anything.  But she also felt sorry for him.  Everybody loved to badmouth him.  She knew he didn't have any close friends at County, she wondered if he had any close friends at all, apart from Gretyl.  But that was down to his attitude towards others.  If only he could make the effort to be friendlier, less patronising, more understanding.  Elizabeth could never be called and eternal optimist, but even she knew that Robert couldn't be that way by choice.  Something had to have forced him into it, made him scared to open up, taught him to hurt others before they could hurt him.

Elizabeth ate quickly, after the shift she'd had, she could probably eat for the rest of the night. It was not long before the bowl in front of her was completely clear.

"Enjoy that did you?"  A trace of amusement floated in his voice.

"Yes, it was excellent.  I didn't have time to eat today, between the ER and that GSW this afternoon.

His eyes flashed with concern as he cleared the plates from the table.  "You shouldn't push yourself so hard. It's not good for you."

Don't push yourself, she thought, he's one to talk.

"As I said before, my boss keeps paging me at ungodly hours.  I think he enjoys it."

"Lizzie, I'm shocked and appalled that you could even suggest such a thing.  In fact I was going to give you dessert, but now I-I just don't think I'll bother."

Elizabeth laughed, and watched as Gretyl padded around after Romano, nudging his knee.  "I think she's trying to give you a hint Robert."

"Oh no, no, no.  You've already been fed today, three times in fact.  If you eat any more you'll be bigger that Thompson in Radiology."  Greyly put her head on her paws and whined, pitifully. "Well, ok, only a bit though."  He took out some dog biscuits and poured them into a bowl marked "Dog".  Gretyl dived into the bowl, as though it were months since she had her last meal, instead of hours. Elizabeth smiled, that dog had him wrapped round her paw, so to speak.  

"You spoil her."

"Yes I do.  She puts up with me, she deserves it. Dessert?"

Elizabeth always wondered if Robert knew what others at County thought about him.  She was sure he knew.  After all, people made their opinions known, often loudly, at the hospital, and Robert was far to sharp not to notice.  Although he frequently joked about the issue, Elizabeth didn't know if it really bothered him.  Surely it had to?  Could she work in a place where people were willing to badmouth her about the smallest matter?  It was particularly difficult for Robert; he was Head of Surgery and Chief of Staff.  Either he was overloading people with work, or they complained he was keeping all the decent cases from them.  Either he wasn't trying hard enough to get extra funding, or he was cutting back too much to achieve targets set by the committee.  Either he rude and dismissive to people or he was too close, too clingy.  It had to get to him at some stage. 

"Yes please."

"You ok with Ben and Jerry's?"

"Lovely.  What kind?"

"I don't know.  Some kind of triple chocolate stuff.  Y'know the stuff that makes you put on ten pounds just by looking at it.  But after the day you've had, you look like you could use some calorie therapy."

Elizabeth smiled. "Oh, you understand woman so well Robert."

"I have my moments."

Elizabeth didn't comment as she watched Robert scoop out several scoops of Ben and Jerry's and place them into a large crystal desert bowl, he then brought out a tub of plain vanilla ice cream.

"Not a chocolate fan Robert?"

"I'm trying to keep in shape Lizzie.  I have no intention of having a heart attack, no matter how much it would please the staff of County."

"Now Robert that's not true."

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

He finished with the ice cream, nearly tripping over Gretyl as he made his way back to the table.  This time he sat at Elizabeth's end of the table.  Gretyl yelped indignantly, and then trotted through to the living room, and collapsed on the rug.

"Great, now she won't speak to me for the rest of the night.  I swear that dog is premenstrual."

Elizabeth laughed.  "Has she ever had puppies?"

"Nah, she's fought off every dog I've ever introduced her to.  I don't think she and I have the same tastes."

"Not unless you like your partners furry Robert."

He smiled slightly and she started to eat.  She hissed when the cold substance met with her back teeth.

"Something wrong Lizzie?"

"It's a bit cold."

"Really?  Who would have thought it, cold ice cream?"

She pulled a face at him and continued to eat, carefully.  Well, Robert had been right about one thing; she could feel the calories going to her hips and thighs as she ate.  But she didn't worry too long before she noticed Robert's staring again.  Only this time he wasn't looking at her, he was staring at the chocolate ice cream.  Elizabeth smiled; she could have fun with this.  That's all it would be, just a little harmless fun, that's all.  A small voice at the back of her mind egged her on, despite the fact that every ounce of common sense she had was screaming a warning not to push things.

"Your ice cream nice Robert?"

He turned his eyes back to his bowl, the contents of which had melted slightly.  He'd hardly touched it.  "Very pleasant."

"You not want some of this?"  _Oh god, what a stupid thing to say.  It must be stress, making me say ridiculous suggestive comments.  Shit, my face must be beetroot now._

"Sorry?" Robert stared at her, eyes wide, not quite sure what he'd heard.

"Ice cream, you want a taste?" _Dear lord, you'll scare the poor man out of his wits.  What are you thinking?  You can't do this._

"No, thank you."

"Are you sure?  Are you not tempted, not even just a little bit?"  Elizabeth smiled, waving a spoonful of Ben and Jerry's at him.

He eyed her suspiciously. "No."

"Go on, just one spoonful.  You wouldn't let the staff at County stop you eating chocolate would you?"

"Alright, alright, fine.  I should hire you as my PR assistant, I could pay you in chocolate."

"You don't have enough."

"Don't be so sure."

"Close your eyes and open your mouth."  He started at her for a beat, as though trying to judge whether or not she was serious, trying to decide if he were going to end up with chocolate ice cream in his lap.  Elizabeth watched him, wondering what he was thinking, if his sharp mind had noticed the obvious attraction and tension between them.  What if he laughed in her face?  The wine.  She'd say she was drunk.  She'd only had three glasses; she could claim to be a lightweight.  She couldn't stop a thrill of pleasure course through her, when his eyes fluttered shut, and his mouth slowly opened.  She tried to push the doubts from her mind, concentrating on the feelings running through her body, the hormones pumping through her veins. With a slightly shaking hand she lifted the spoon, heaped with ice cream, to his mouth, sliding it in, watching as his lips closed round the spoon, staring as he swallowed gently.  Then Elizabeth noticed a trickle of ice cream, down the side of his mouth.  "Oops, stay still."  She leaned over, and heard Robert take a deep breath, registering her close proximity.  His eyes were still closed.  He tensed slightly when he felt her finger make contact with his skin. It was surprisingly soft.  Gently she traced the line made by the ice cream, wiping it up with her finger.  Slowly she withdrew. Robert opened his eyes just in time to watch her licking the ice cream off her finger.  He released a shaky breath.

"Thank you."

They finished the ice cream quickly and quietly, each a little embarrassed, each a little unsure.  _Oh god_, thought Elizabeth, _what do I say now?  You want to come home with me Robert?  I_ _could use a new table._ Despite her embarrassment, she was relieved.  At least he hadn't yelled at her, or worse, laughed.  He seemed a little surprised but not too upset.  Or maybe he was just hiding it well.  She didn't know.  

Wordlessly Robert lifted their dishes, carrying them to the sink.

"Would you like a hand Robert?"

"No, it's ok Lizzie.  I'll leave them till the morning. You uh-uh wanna sit in the lounge, probably more comfortable."

"Fine with me."

They moved, resuming their previous positions, careful not to rouse a sleeping Gretyl.

"You'd think she'd ran a marathon or something," Robert commented.

"It's a dogs life, Robert."

"Indeed it is."

Lizzie smiled.  She couldn't help but notice that Robert was sitting much closer to her on the couch than he had previously.  She could feel him, feel the heat radiating off of him.

" So, uh, going anywhere for Christmas vacation Lizzie?  Is your mother coming over? For her astrology?"

"Oh I hope not!  And its astronomy, not astrology. I don't think I could face that, listening to her advice on Christmas cooking, what I should wear, how I should decorate.  No.  Just a quiet Christmas.  Of course, I'll phone my mother, and I had better phone my father too.  But apart from that nothing special planned.  Yourself?"

"Gretyl and I will be watching reruns of A Christmas Carol and Oliver.  No doubt I'll get paged at sometime, probably a maniac Santa with a gun."

"Family?"

"Sure I'll give my sister a call, see how she's coping with her tearaway niece."

"How old is she?"

"My niece?  Just turned fourteen I think.  It all goes downhill from then."

"How about your parents?"

"Yeah I'll call mom, been a while since we've spoken."

"Your father?"

"No."  He said shortly.  "We're not close."

His answer concerned Elizabeth.  The warm tone in his voice vanished, and was replaced with a hard, almost cold one.   Why wasn't he close to his father?  Did that have something to do with his personality?  Had something happened?  Elizabeth's mind was full of questions, but the way Robert answered the question warned her to be cautious, not to push him.

"Oh.  I'm sorry."

"Don't be.  He's not worth it."

"Oh."

She needed to change the subject, quickly.  The last thing she wanted to do was bring up bad memories so close to Christmas.  She was supposed to be paying him a friendly visit, not trying to depress him. Elizabeth leaned down and stroked Gretyl's head gently.  The great dog lifted her head, responding to the caress.  Then an idea came to Elizabeth.

She whispered to Gretyl, just loud enough for Robert to hear. "Hey there Gretyl.  Don't you think it's about time your owner gave us a song?  Then you can start your dancing routine."

She was rewarded from a short laugh from Robert.  "Persistent aren't you Lizzie?  I thought you'd forget about that."

"Memory like an elephant Robert."

"You said it, I didn't." He quipped.

" I really would like to hear you sing."  She hoped he heard the sincerity in her voice.  

"And I wanna job in the Bahamas, d'you hear me complaining?"

"Oh come on Robert.  Please.  Think of it as a Christmas present."

"What do I get?"

"Uh-uh I'll tie Christmas bells to Kerry's cane?"

Robert laughed.  "Lizzie!  I'm proud of you.  When did you become so malicious?  I must be a good teacher."

"And a good singer."

"Okay, okay."  He grumbled, reaching behind the couch for his guitar.  It was a beautiful instrument, obviously fairly old, but kept in excellent condition. "What do you wanna hear?"

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "You do requests?"

"Not Christmas carols.  I've heard enough of them to last me a life time, or ten minutes in Kerry's company."

"And there went my plan for Little Donkey."

"Awww what a shame.  No carols, including Away in a Manger, and The First Noel, and all that meaningless other crap."

"We'll I can't think of anything, surprise me."

Robert looked thoughtful for a moment, and then his eyes seemed to glaze over, as though he were lost in his own thoughts, his own memories.  He snapped back to reality, glanced at Elizabeth, and smiled slightly.  She returned his smile wordlessly, silently encouraging him.  

He took a deep breath, and began to sing.

To be continued…

Well what do you think?  Please r/r!  Send all comments to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com.  Thank you.  


	3. Is It Okay?

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R.  Told you it would be going up!  I don't know if it quite justifies an R rating, but better safe than sorry.

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (wonderfully portrayed by Paul McCrane) and any other ER characters mentioned belong to Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Also, the music and lyrics of "Is it okay if I call you mine?" (which was featured in the movie "Fame") belong to Paul McCrane.  I'm just borrowing them for a bit.  I thought of a few songs to use for this chapter, but this one seems appropriate.

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Also, I have done my best to correct my grammatical mistakes (that's the last time I rely on Word's grammar check) but after updating I did spot a few typos in the previous chapters.  Sorry about that, I'll go over them with a fine tooth comb at a later date.

Feedback:  Yes!! Always wanted!! Send it to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com.  Please r/r!

Chapter 3

Is it okay if I call you mine?

Just for a time…

And I will be just fine

If I know that you know that I'm wanting

Needing your love…

It was a perfect moment.  It could have been plucked right out of a romance novel or a movie.  It felt magical, Elizabeth thought.  Nothing else seemed to exist, nothing else seemed to matter.  Everything else had no meaning at all.

If I ask of you is it all right

If I ask you to hold me tight

Through a cold dark night

Cause there may be a cloudy day in sight

And I need to let you know that I might

Be needing your love….

She sat in complete silence, Gretyl by her side, resting her head on Elizabeth's knee.  The music seemed to have enchanted them both.  Neither of them moved, as if afraid they would somehow break the spell.   This was a special moment, one to be kept and treasured forever.  It was three days from Christmas, snow gently floated past the window, it was going to be a white Christmas, as it often was in Chicago, and she was listening to Robert Romano, the supposedly arrogant, egotistical and mean spirited Chief of Staff of county, singing for her.  It was so surreal, yet it felt so natural.  She knew, without being told, that Robert never sang in front of people, it was something very personal, a little part of himself.  And he was willing to share it with her.  That had to mean something didn't it?  That had to make what they had special.

And what I'm trying to say isn't really new…

It's just the things that happen to me

When I'm reminded of you…

Like when I hear your name,

Or see a place that you've been

Or see a picture of your grin, 

Or pass a house that you've been in,

One time or another..

His voice was beautiful.  Absolutely beautiful and completely mesmerising.  They were sitting so close that she could feel, not just hear the music.  Although he wasn't singing particularly loudly, his voice had no trouble filling the whole room.  It seemed to surround her, capturing her, showering her with emotions.  The guitar was the perfect accompaniment, suiting his voice wonderfully.  He didn't play too loudly so that he was drowned out, or too quietly, so that he could not be heard.  It was just perfect. The song was incredible, simple, and yet so full of feeling.  Elizabeth found herself wondering whom he was singing about.  Was it a past love?  Somebody he'd lost?  Was he involved with somebody at the moment?  She didn't believe so, unless she had completely misread the situation, unless she had imagined him staring at her, imagined him blushing when he was caught, imagined the electricity between them when their eyes met.  Maybe he was trying to tell her how he felt.  Maybe he was saying it through song, because he was too worried, too scared to say it directly to her. Did he love her? Did she love him?

It sets off something in me I can't explain.

And I can't wait to see you again.

Oh, babe, I love your love…

And what I'm trying to say isn't really new…

Elizabeth drank in the sight of him as he sang.  He concentrated fully on the task, keeping his eyes fixed on his hands when he changed chords, checking that he was moving his fingers to the right frets.  Occasionally he glanced up and caught her eye.  And when he did, she felt her heat quicken and shivers race though her body.  It was the look in his eyes, those chocolate pools, warm and dark.  The revealed so much, yet held so many secrets.  She could see clearly the emotions running through them, joy, apprehension, desire.  She could lose herself in those eyes.

It's just the things that happen to me

When I'm reminded of you…

The music faded into the silence.  And they were left, staring at each other, and Elizabeth felt that spark again, that jolt of electricity between them.  She thought of everything that had happened between them over the years, everything that they had shared.  They had laughed together and fought with each other, although they had certainly fought more often.  They had seen each other at their best and at their worst.  They had been colleges and now they were friends.  Could they be more?  Could he be what she was looking for?  Would he let her in?

Wordlessly Robert lifted the guitar off his lap and placed it onto the floor.  Then he turned so that he was facing Elizabeth completely.  They were so close, she could feel his breath on her face, could hear him breathing, could see everything she was feeling mirrored in his eyes.

"That was beautiful Robert."  Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Thank you."  The low rumble of a reply sent a shiver racing down Elizabeth's spine.  

"Did you write it yourself?  For someone you cared about?"

He nodded, eyes never leaving her face.  "Yeah."

"She must have meant a great deal to you."

"Yes, she certainly does."

He shuffled closer, and then reached out with his right hand, gently caressing her check.  His touch was so soft.  She watched as he leaned towards her, then felt her eyes fluttering closed, as his lips brushed against hers and – 

She startled, and nearly fell off the couch.  Gretyl yelped as Elizabeth's foot narrowly missed her tail. Robert pulled back, alarm clear in his eyes.  "Lizzie?  I'm sorry I-I  – "

"No Robert, it wasn't you," Unfortunately she knew exactly what it was.  With an unhappy smile, she reached behind her, retrieving her pager from her back pocket.  She looked down at the tiny screen, and a wave of disappointment washed through her.  "It's the ER, can I use your phone please Robert?"

"Of course," she could hear the disappointment in his voice. "It's, uh, on the table over there."

She gave him a slight smile and walked across to the table and punched in the digits into the handset.  Who ever it was, she didn't care.  Nobody was going to spoil this night.

"It's Dr Corday, what's going on?  I see.  Yes.  Is nobody else free?  Yes, I understand that but I'm not on call today. No." She sighed. "No, I understand.  Yes, I'll be there as soon as I can, keep an eye on her."

"Problem?"

"Yes.  One of my patients has come in, and refuses to be seen by anybody else but me.  He won't even let the nurses carry out a blood test. He's been there for three hours.  I'm sorry Robert but I'm going to have to go."

"I understand, it's ok.  I'll drive you."

"You can't Robert." she gestured to the empty bottle of wine on the table.

"Oh.  Well then I'll call you a cab."

"Thank you."

"And you wonder where my strong dislike of the ER comes from." He said wryly.

Robert called a cab, and then busied himself clearing the glasses from the table and taking them to the kitchen.  Elizabeth felt suddenly deflated, it had been going so well, and now it was over.  Who knew if she'd ever get another chance? The cab arrived far too soon for her liking, and, after she had said goodbye to Gretyl, Robert wordlessly escorted her to the hall, and helped her put on her jacket.  

"I had a lovely time Robert, thank you."

"I'm glad you came Lizzie."

Elizabeth smiled, and turned, bracing herself for the wind and snow outside, placed a hand on the door handle.

"Elizabeth?"

She turned, and then felt a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her down.  His soft lips brushed against hers, asking permission.  She responded enthusiastically, returning his kiss, as his other hand gently ran through her hair.  She felt his tongue trace her lips, and she opened her mouth to him, letting him in, feeling him exploring her mouth, learning every curve and hollow.  Settling one hand on his shoulder, she ran the other down his back, pulling him closer to her, feeling the heat radiating off him.  The kiss became more passionate as their tongues duelled, his hands roaming her body, down her neck, past her shoulder, down to her waist and back up again.  She felt as though she were on fire.  Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently backed her up, never breaking the kiss, until she felt her back pressing against a wall.  He pulled away for an instant.  She knew he was making sure she was okay, checking that he wasn't pushing her too fast, that it wasn't all too much.  Elizabeth knew for a fact that it wasn't fast enough.  He leaned into her, a hand on the wall on either side of her head, and planted hot, wet kisses down her neck, and up again to her ear, nibbling on the sensitive lobe with his teeth.  Elizabeth heard herself hiss with pleasure. She lifted his chin slightly with one hand and brought his lips to hers, then slid her hands underneath his t-shirt, caressing the soft skin of his lower back.  She felt him moan into the kiss as she tugged his shirt higher – 

A loud rap at the door startled both of them and they broke apart reluctantly.    She watched Robert attempting to catch his breath, as she listened to the retreating footsteps.  

"I'd better go, you did tell them it was an emergency."

Robert stared up at her, his eyes dilated and filled with desire, face flushed, lips kiss swollen.  He looked wonderful.

"Yeah, I guess."

He opened the door for her, and she was instantly hit by the biting cold.  She missed Robert already, his heat, his scent, his kiss. She started making her way down the steps, then turned back to face him.

 Robert took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes.  "You're beautiful." He said simply. And she felt awash with joy, because she heard the love and sincerity in his voice. The cab driver rolled down the window and yelled something about not having all night.

"Alright, alright!" Robert shouted back. 

"Take care Lizzie."

"You too Robert."

"And don't give that loud mouth a tip."

He kissed her briefly.  Then she turned, wrapped her coat tight around her, and hurried to the cab.  As she reached it, she smiled.  Across the cold night air came the faint sounds of Hark Ye Herald Angels Sing.  Turning, Elizabeth saw a small band of children making their way through the snow by candlelight.  Dressed in thick winter coats, gloves, scarves and hats, they sang, their high voices drifting across the night air.  Recalling Robert's opinions on Christmas Carols, Elizabeth grinned and called up to him, "They sound in need of a tenor Robert.  Maybe you could lend some assistance?"   Without waiting for a reply, it was sure not to be a pleasant one, she leapt into the car, laughing at the expression on his face, pleased to see that no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he was laughing too.

********

Elizabeth sighed.  After finally persuading Mr Truman that nurses were perfectly capable of drawing blood safely, despite what he read in the papers, she was on her way home.  She resisted the urge to ask the cab driver to go past Robert's house to see if he was still awake.  Instead, she relived the evening in her mind, remembered Robert's voice, remembered him cooking for her, singing for her, kissing her.  It had gone better than she'd hoped, better than her wildest dreams, well, maybe not her wildest dreams exactly.  She didn't know what she had expected when she decided to go to Robert's house, but that evening had certainly exceeded all expectations.

Feeling a strange mixture between being completely exhausted, and deliriously happy, Elizabeth paid the cabby, tipping far too much, and ran to her door, which she could barely make out through the snow.  Dumping her jacket and bag in the hallway, she noticed her answer machine's light flashing.  Pressing the play button, she somehow knew who it was before the message started.

"Hey Lizzie, it's Robert.  I-I, uh, just wanted you to know that I had a really nice time tonight, and uh, I hope you did too.  I was wondering if you're not busy on Christmas Eve if you'd like to come over for a meal or something, just if you want. So if y-you do just give me a call or something."

There was a pause and she was about to push stop when she realised he hadn't finished speaking yet.

"Oh yeah, one more thing.  You wonder why I don't like carols?  Did you hear those kids?  All the boys were sharp and all the girls were singing flat.  What they lacked in talent, they made up for in enthusiasm, and they lacked a lot of talent.  I tell you one think, if my old choir master had heard singing like that, he'd have strung the lot of them up.  Mind you, I actually made a donation, so I probably deserve to be strung up for encouraging them." she could hear the amusement in his voice. "Anyway I hope I see you soon."

She smiled; he really was quite a character. She had learned so much about him in just a few hours, and she had a feeling that was just the tip of the iceberg.  As she made her way upstairs she didn't think she could feel any happier, until she reached the tenth step, where she was suddenly filled with a deep sense of dread.  She had Christmas Eve off, which was wonderful.  She was going to be spending it with Robert Romano, which was also wonderful.  

But what in God's name was she going to wear?

To be continued…

Well what do you think?  Please let me know, send all thoughts, comments and suggestions to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com  Please r/r!


	4. Deja vu

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (wonderfully portrayed by Paul McCrane) and any other ER characters mentioned belong to Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

I'm sorry this has taken so long to post.  After the…uh…interesting trip I was on, my phone line was struck by lightning and my modem was fried….I know it sounds crazy but it really did happen!! (Don't laugh at me people!)

Feedback:  Yes! Always wanted! Any advice, comments, suggestions to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com (provided they're constructive!)

Chapter 4

Elizabeth felt an uncanny sense of déjà vu.  She was standing outside Robert's house, in the heavy snow, fretting over ringing the door bell again.  Only this time she wasn't worried about intruding intruding, because this time she was coming into his home invited.  That thought alone made Elizabeth smile.  He had invited her into his home, he wanted her to be there, on Christmas Eve, just the two of them. Alone.  But even that happy thought couldn't completely stop the nagging doubt in her stomach.  She was worried about her appearance.  It had been, well, a while since her last date.  It had certainly been a while since somebody had invited her over to their house, for a home cooked meal on Christmas Eve.  She wanted to make an impression certainly, but the right kind.  She didn't want to seem to eager, too tarty, or on the other hand, too casual, as if it wasn't an important occasion.  Well, she was here now, and she certainly wasn't going to try to catch a cab in this weather to go home and change. She didn't know what she expected to happen after dinner, or even what she wanted to happen.  What did he want?  Well, judging by that kiss, he was certainly interested.  But to what level?  Was he simply so lonely that he'd be satisfied with whoever showed an interest?  No, that couldn't be it.  She had seen the emotions in his eyes, seen them flicker across his face when he looked at her.  This wasn't just something he wanted to keep him amused for a week or two.  This was something serious, they had something together that she'd never felt with anyone else, it was unique. But she'd never get anywhere standing on his doorstep. 

She gave herself a shake, dislodging some of the snow from her hair, and rang the bell with a gloved finger.

Immediately she heard Gretyl come charging down the hallway, barking like a thing possessed, and crashing into the door.   A moment later she heard Robert's footsteps hurrying to the door.  

"Hey Gretyl, c'mon move.  I mean it move, now, c'mon.  Clever girl."

The door opened, and she could have sworn she saw Robert's eyes light up.  "Hey Lizzie.  Still trying to carry off that Yeti impression huh?  Y'know I don't think it's such a good look for you, but what's this?  You're wearing gloves?"  He bent down and whispered loudly to Gretyl "Y'see I think she actually listens to me."

She stepped into the hallway, ignoring his aside to Gretyl, "Hello Robert.  Not out singing Christmas carols with the children?"

"Ho, ho, ho, Lizzie.  Can I take your coat?"

She nodded in agreement, and felt his hands gently guide the coat down and off her back.  She couldn't help but smile, as a small gasp of appreciation escaped his lips.  After hours of shopping, and buying nothing, she had finally decided on a simple black dress she hadn't worn for a long while.  It was simple but fairly classy, and suited her figure nicely.  Her shoes only had a slight heel.  She had been mindful that at County she always seemed to be looking down at Robert slightly in conversation, and that was in flat shoes.  She didn't want to give him some inferiority complex.  Although she thought wryly, that would hardly seem a problem Robert would be familiar with.  But then again, maybe it was something he was all too familiar with.  She simply didn't know.

"Y-you, uh, look lovely." He took her off guard, pecking her on the cheek quickly, before saying "Dinner will be ready soon, you wanna go in and sit down?"

She was thoughtful for a moment, then answered with a smile in her voice.  "There's something I'd rather do."  She really did amaze herself sometimes.  Just being in the company of this man made her feel bold, his natural self confidence was contaigous.  She never had been particularly good at flirting and the like.  Some people had a natural ability, like her mother, who seemed to be trying to work her way round most of the top businessmen in London at the moment.  But in relationships she had always waited for the other party to approach her.  She didn't go out of her way to attract attention, she never had.

Robert's back was turned to her, hanging up the jacket, "I'm not singing for you again.  I'm not some kind of performing monkey y'know."

"That's not what I was thinking." Stepping softly behind him, she gently placed her lips below his ear, and kissed the sensitive skin of his neck.  She felt a shudder run through his body as she ran her hands up his stomach, caressing, though his shirt.  He turned himself in her arms, and their lips met.  His mouth was soft, and wet and sweet. Their tongues explored each other's mouths, tasting and learning.  She ran her hands up to around the nape of his neck, toying with his hair, while she felt his settle at her waist.  They kissed for a few moments, the intensity escalating until Elizabeth felt something nudging against her leg and pulled away breathless.  Glancing down she chuckled when she saw Gretyl bumping her nose against her leg.

Robert looked slightly embarrassed, "Hey Gretyl cut it out," He turned back to Elizabeth, leaning in to brush his lips to hers when Gretyl barked.  Elizabeth started. Gretyl was a sizeable dog, with a deep bark that bounced off the walls and echoed down the hallway.  Although Elizabeth knew that Robert would never keep an animal that was in any way vicious, especially one so large, she couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the animal. 

"Gretyl!" Robert's voice was sharp now, laced with irritation.   The Bouvier nudged her great head against his knee, insistently, refusing to be deterred.  

Elizabeth wondered if she was jealous.  Maybe Robert brought so few people home that the dog saw anybody else as a threat.  It worried Elizabeth to think that Gretyl was the only thing in Robert's life besides County. She was concerned that when Robert came home each night Gretyl was the only one waiting for him.  There was nobody to ask him how his day went. No one to enquire about his health. Who asked him about his hopes and dreams, his plans for the future? 

But Gretyl hadn't been so protective on Elizabeth's last visit. Why would she act this way now?  Although Elizabeth had hated her mothers choice of dogs, which were inbred to the point of stupidity, she knew that dogs were rarely openly aggressive without a reason.  Maybe something was wrong with her, or maybe she was trying to warn them about something. But what could it be? Then realisation dawned on her.

"Uh, Robert,"

"God, I'm sorry Lizzie.  I don't know what's gotten into her," He tried to shove Gretyl away with one foot, but the dog refused to be moved, and began to growl warningly. "She's never normally – "

"No, Robert I-"

"-like this.  She's normally a people kind of – "

"-know what's-"

"-dog.  She's never growled at anybody before – "

"-wrong-"

"-except that idiot from Rush-"

Lord, no wonder the man could argue black was white, thought Elizabeth.  He just blocked out the other side of the conversation completely, he probably didn't even realise she was talking to him.

"Robert!"

His head snapped up at the tone of her voice.  "What?"

She fought to control her laughter at the confused look on his face, confusion mingled with embarrassment.  He was most likely mortified that his best friend was embarrassing him in front of his guest. "I think something's burning." 

Confusion turned to realisation turned to horror.  Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh as the emotions flickered across his features, his chocolate brown eyes wide.  He looked down at Gretyl, then back up to Elizabeth, muttered a nearly inaudible "Oh shit," and he turned and all but sprinted down the hallway, at a surprisingly high speed.   While Gretyl, pleased that her owner had finally taken the hint, bombed after him, barking triumphantly.  Shaking her head, Elizabeth followed more slowly, bracing herself for what would surely be chaos in the kitchen.

She found Robert crouching in front of an open oven, cursing under his breath.

"Well doctor, can the patient be saved?"

He looked up with a half smile on his face, "Actually I think I've done all I can for this one.  Time of incineration; twenty fifteen.  Unless turkey a la charcoal is your idea of top class cuisine?"

Peering into the oven Elizabeth saw what remained of their would be meal.  "Oh dear."

"Yeah.  I'd say we could go out for a meal, but with every romantic lunatic dragging his lady love out on Christmas Eve, I don't think we'd find somewhere.  I'd suggest ordering out, but I don't wanna contract something from that Italian place. So…doctor it appears we have a problem."

"We could always stay in."

He raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really, unless you are?"

"Uh, no, I guess not. And to think I thought you enjoyed my cooking.  You deliberately distracted me in the hall way to burn the turkey didn't you? But, hey, dessert's still intact.  What d'you say to some Ben and Jerry's and a few glasses of wine?  Maybe not a culinary masterpiece but I hope m'lady doesn't mind?"

"I was actually looking forward to the meal and you know it. But Ben and Jerry's Robert?  I thought you were looking after your health?"

"Well last time I had it, it seemed to go down pretty well.  I mean it's all about moderation right?  So you could eat as much as you wanted, as long as you had a good work out afterwards," his voice took on a tone she'd never heard him use before.  It was soft and silky and suggestive.

She could feel it again, that spark, the sudden sexual tension.  She could see everything he was thinking in his eyes.  Who would have thought that he could be so expressive? The chocolate brown pools gave away everything.  She could see the desire, the excitement, the anxiety of rejection, even now, still unsure of himself, despite his smart remarks.  He was testing the water before he committed himself, to give her time to laugh it off or to change the subject, to prevent himself from being hurt.  He'd obviously been hurt in the past, but she didn't know when or by whom.  She wished she had met him before that.  Was he completely different then?  Was he warm and funny and open with everyone, instead of just a chosen few?  Did the girls flock to him?  Was he the life and soul of the party?  Would he open up to her now?

She advanced on him, slipping a hand around his neck, stroking the warm skin above his collar, "But surely we could leave the ice-cream till you, uh, run out of energy?"

Stepping into her embrace, one hand found its way to her hair, the other settling on her waist, caressing her through the clinging fabric of her dress.  He leaned up, and whispered into her ear, "But that never happens,"

A tremble ran through her body and she leant down to whisper into his ear, smiling against the soft skin, "Well I think you'll have to back up that boast with some proof, don't you?" She smiled when he closed his eyes, a slight tremor travelling though his body. She watched him, felt him inhale, then he opened his eyes, capturing her with his gaze.  He lifted a hand to her mouth, tracing her lips with his thumb.  

"Is that what you want?"

Tbc

Hey. So how's it coming along? Sorry it's a bit short. Let me know what you think, please r/r.

Lmw

x


	5. Worth the Risk

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Thank you so much for your reviews, they've all been so positive, especially from my fellow Robbie fans, you're all very much appreciated.  Keep the reviews coming in, send any feed back to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com, or r/r!

Chapter 5

Silence.  A silence that was so loud it was deafening, save for the unsteady rhythm of her heart.  But it wasn't only her heart beat, she could feel his own pulse, feel it through her clothes where his hand rested lightly on her shoulder.  She could feel his warmth, the way his racing pulse mirrored her own.  Desire, excitement, anxiety, all conspiring to send their heart rates soaring.  She could see the emotions in his eyes as he held her gaze, she could see the desire, the excitement and the anxiety, he was waiting for an answer, an answer to a question that would alter their lives, in a way she had never thought possible. 

But how could she answer him, when she didn't know the answer herself?  She hated this, this feeling of uncertainty.  Not knowing what she wanted, or what was going to happen.  She was used to being in control, well, if not in control, at least having a vague idea of where the relationship would lead.  But how could she expect to predict the future and try to control it, if she didn't know what was going to happen in the present, if she didn't know what she wanted?  Was it simply sex?  One wild night, to finally act on the obvious sexual tension between them?  Just get it out of the way and then forget about it?  Maybe do it again if he was as good with his hands out of the operating theatre as he was in it? Or friendship?  Did she want a friend to be there for her, to listen to her problems, to make her feel loved and appreciated, but with out the complications of a romantic relationship, purely platonic love.  Or real love?  The kind that you read about in fairy tales.  Pure, romantic, passionate love. Somebody to make love to, somebody to be there for her no mater what happened, who could tell what she was thinking just by a glance, who would wake up each day, glad to be with her.

What did she want from him?  Could he give her all of those things, some would say that he wasn't capable of any of them.  She had never been in a relationship where all three had been present, they just didn't seem to meld together. Her partner would be sweet and loving, but frankly they were rather boring.  Or she got involved with men who loved to talk, but rarely found time to listen. Or the sexual side of the relationship would be great but it would just be sex, with nothing more meaningful. 

Well one could never accuse Robert of being boring.  Indeed, County never seemed to be quiet with him around. He was always stirring up trouble somehow.  She was sure he got some kind of perverse pleasure in annoying others, when he addressed Mallucci as Matalucci, or deliberately wound up the scrub nurses and med students.  She was well aware of his uneasy working relationship with Weaver and Benton.  Many times she had heard Kerry threatening to lodge complaint against him, and she had seen Peter coming out of the OR on the verge of flattening the senior surgeon.  And while she rarely agreed with his way of handling the staff, she knew that if he ever left County she would miss him, and no matter how much they denied it, others would miss his presence too.  And recently, in the past three days, she had learned more about him in nearly four years.  He cooked, he sang, he read the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. He could be funny without being sarcastic, something she had never thought possible, he could be kind and caring, and not just towards his dog. Who knew what else she would learn about his character, about his hopes and dreams, about the person he really was, underneath the shield he surrounded himself with. Occasionally she was allowed tiny glimpses, when his eyes betrayed his feelings, when they showed pain, joy, amusement or desire.  They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, something Elizabeth had never believed until the past few days spent with Robert. They were also held the secrets of the past, and Elizabeth knew that they held secrets of events that had greatly affected Robert, secrets that he still carried with him, that influenced his every day life.  She knew without asking, that life had not been kind to him, that he was a far more complex man than she had ever thought possible.

And despite what many thought, he did listen. As Kerry said "That's what's so damn infuriating.  He does listen, he may not agree with you, and he'll hardly ever change his mind, but you just can't blame him for not listening.  It would be easier if you could."  Even though many of the staff complained that he didn't listen to their requests and suggestions, he did, Elizabeth knew that, and she knew that he did fight valiantly for the hospital. He was an intelligent man, with strong views on a varied range of subjects.  But Elizabeth had learned that shortly after one of their first times in the OR together.   The topic of conversation had started out as her, Robert has quizzed her about her time at med school, it had then moved on to travelling around Europe, Robert himself having visited several European countries, then they had debated, rather heatedly, several hospital policies, after several more erratic jumps, they had closed up discussing the men's and women's Wimbledon final, and why the Brits would never have a home grown champion.  All the while they had worked flawlessly on a man with six bullets in his chest.

The purely physical attraction was definitely there, she could feel it between them, a sparkle of electricity whenever they were together, when their eyes met across a room, or across the operating table, or when there was any physical contact between them, when their arms brushed or their hands touched while performing surgery.  And the kisses that they had shared, they were unlike anything she had ever experienced before.   So strong, so intense and passionate.  A kiss that left her breathless for more, one that kept her awake at night when the memories refused to leave her, reliving his touch, his taste, his scent. But she knew that there was more than just that between them, something deeper, more powerful, more meaningful.  She could see it in his eyes, felt it in his touch, and heard it when he spoke.  The longing looks when he thought she wasn't looking, his gentle touch, warm and comforting.  The way he had sang for her, letting her into a deeply private place, one which he never shared with anyone else.  Robert had let her see so much, let her see aspects of himself that she had never even guessed existed. He had made all the first moves, he had taken all the risks, the risk of humiliation or rejection, yet she still didn't know how to respond.  No, that wasn't true.  She did know how she felt, she knew what she wanted to say, but the feeling of fear, the terrible feeling of uncertainty gnawed at her, made her doubt herself.  

His eyes left her, the chocolate brown pools suddenly looked defeated, the hope gone from them. "I'm sorry Elizabeth."  His voice was low, little more than a whisper, as the warm touch on her shoulder left, as he backed away, shoulders slumped.  He suddenly seemed incredibly vulnerable, the hope and excitement previously in his eyes replaced with a look that she couldn't quite identify, a cross between disappointment and despair.   

She couldn't do this.  She could not just throw away a chance of happiness because of fear, because she was uncertain. Her mother's voice suddenly came to her "If it is not worth a risk then it is not worth having Elizabeth."  Well, she thought wryly, if there was any time for Mother to be right, I suppose now is as good a time as any.  If he was willing to take a risk for her, she had to be willing to do the same for him.

"No, Robert, I do want this."

And it struck her suddenly: she did love him. She loved him.  It was that simple.  She loved this deeply passionate, intelligent, funny, caring, argumentative, and stubborn man.  He was unique, unlike anybody else she had ever encountered.  She wanted to learn about him, learn everything about him, learn about his past, and be a part of his future. She wanted to make him smile, make him laugh, to be there for him when he cried.  And she knew that he would do the same for her, that he would always be there for her.  Her heart soared when he turned back to her, the disbelief slowly turning to a look of pure joy, a smile lighting up his features.  But this was not his usual kind of smile, not the simple twisting of his lips that looked more like a smirk, when the lips moved but the eyes remained dead.  This was an honest smile, a smile where his eyes sparkled, filled with joy.

He stepped forward, holding her head in his hands, leaned up and gently brushed his lips against hers. 

"Thank you."

tbc

Hey.  Well guys and girls, what do you think?  I am planning to finish it off in two more chapters but I don't want to spoil it by making it too long, so please let me know what you think, specially all you Robbie fans!  It's nice to see more and more Robbie fic appearing now….we're taking over!!  Well I'm going to be away on holiday for a week, after the trauma of having my modem fried! So when I get back I want to come on fanfiction.net and have plenty of kind, supportive reviews (remember I'm a delicate soul) and have an inbox on the point of over loading! Remember it's little_miss_writer@hotmail.com. Please, please, please r/r! (Oh and I've been reading the spoilers and ep reviews for season nine, since we won't get it over here till god knows when, somebody please, please stop me!  I will never forgive the writers, ever!  How could they?!?)

Remember r/r! 

lmw


	6. You're Here Aren't You?

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Thank you so much for your reviews, they've all been so positive, especially from my fellow Robbie fans, you're all very much appreciated.  Keep the reviews coming in, send any feed back to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com, or r/r!

Chapter 6

Something was different.  Something was definitely different.  She could sense it, something was wrong. Well, maybe not wrong exactly, but strange, a sensation she wasn't used to at all.  Elizabeth blinked repeatedly, trying to fight her way into full consciousness.  She found herself staring.  Staring up at a ceiling, a ceiling that wasn't hers. Lying in tangled sheets, warm sheets that weren't hers either.  And she was absolutely certain that her bed was not supposed to be this size.  The morning sunlight streamed thought the curtains, gradually pushing the sleep filled clouds away that had formed around her mind.  Robert.  With a sudden jolt she remembered.  Robert.  The thought made her smile as her mind suddenly whisked her back to a short time before…

_Robert kissed her with a passion, with a hunger that she had never experienced before.  She had never felt this wanted, this needed, to be desired in such a way. He  kissed her like a drowning man, desperately clinging onto his only lifeline.  Slipping his hands to the straps of her dress, stroking down her along her shoulders, down her arms, taking the smooth velvet material with him.   She returned his kisses with equal passion, her mouth learning his, her hands learning the strong, hard muscles of his back, kneading them softly.  She moaned when his mouth left hers, trailing hot, wet kisses down her neck, along her collarbone, hands stroking her sides.  Just a slight touch and her skin came alive, her blood hammering through her veins, his heat and his energy passing through to her.  She felt on fire.  Everything else in the world paled in comparison, nothing could reach her here.  But one nagging thought still nipped away in the back of her mind.  Better speak now before it's too late .  She hated to do it but…….._

_"Robert." She hardly recognized her voice as her own, it was husky and breathless, wavering as his lips moved over her skin._

_Through his kisses he replied with a breathless "Yeah…"_

_"Don't you think we could," he nipped her shoulder, then soothed the skin with his soft tongue, "Oh, uh, maybe go somewhere else?"_

_His lips where moving up again, trailing up her neck to her ear, gently nibbling. She could feel his lips curve into a smile, "Why?  You're here…..here seems nice..very nice in fact….more than nice……"_

_She laughed, or at least she had  intended to, but it came out more as a moan, "Robert …please…I really think we should….."_

_He broke off breathless, eyes gleaming, lips kiss swollen, "Honestly Lizzie, trying to drag me into bed huh?  You always used to getting your own way?"_

_She didn't miss a beat, smiling  wickedly before tracing the zipper of his jeans with one hand, and leaning in to nip his ear lobe, enjoying his sharp gasp giving way to a low moan.  "Always."_

_Looking up with chocolate eyes glazed, voice husky, "Well then, I'd hate to disappoint you."_

Elizabeth gasped. The memory was intense. Of course it has only happened a few short hours ago, but he invoked such strong and powerful feelings within her. And she had seen in his eyes that she had an equal effect on him.  

How exactly they had managed to clamber up the three flights of stairs was utterly beyond her.  All she remembered were the desperate kisses and caresses, trying to unzip Robert's jeans while his hands roamed her body.  Then, buy some miracle they had found themselves in Robert's bedroom.

_The moment she heard the door close behind them, she felt it.  The incredible rush of insecurities. The thoughts and doubts that plagued her, that had plagued her all through her teenage years into adulthood. What if he doesn't find me attractive?  What if he laughs at me?  What if I freeze?  Her romantic experiences of the past few years had been far from wonderful, they had left her feeling empty, longing for something that she couldn't quite name. It had been like that when she was younger too. She had rushed into sex as a teenager, not really understanding what it could truly be like with the right person.  It had been a race, who was more grown up?  Who had had the most boyfriends? And over the last couple of years it had been similar.  Going from one one night stand to the next, each one leaving her empty and longing. Longing for something that she'd never truly had, but at the same time knew she needed.  Something that she prayed Robert could give he, somebody to make her truly happy, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Someone she loved, who returned it ten fold. _

_Robert was staring at her, a rather quizzical expression on his face, as his breathing slowly returned to normal.  Damn, how long had she been standing like an idiot for?  Stupid, stupid, stupid.  She didn't want him to think she had changed her mind, or her feelings.  He would understand her nerves wouldn't he?  Everybody must feel like this at some time, right? She opened her mouth to speak, but as she did Robert broke eye contact, mumbling incoherently, as his gaze settled on his feet._

_"Sorry Robert?"_

_He looked up as a faint blush spread across his cheeks.  He tried to avoid eye contact, looking above her head, to the left and to the right, before finally meeting her eyes.  He was silent for a short time, and when he did speak she had to strain her ears to hear him, "I, uh, said, you, uh," the last words came out in a jumbled rush, " make me feel nervous."_

_She felt her eyes widen, he was as anxious as she was?  A small smile tugged at her lips, did that make them both paranoid?  "I do?"_

_"Uh, yeah," the blush deepened several shades, his eyes seemed desperate to break contact, "I've, uh, waited for this for so long, and I, uh, don't, what I mean is –"_

_She knew he hated to be seen as vulnerable, it was a side of him others rarely if ever saw. She felt a sudden urge to protect him, to comfort him. "You didn't want to be, uh, disappointing?"_

_Relief flooded his features, even as his blush intensified at the words.  His eyes met hers, and she could see the relief shining clearly.  She hadn't laughed at him, or cut him down with a sarcastic comment, he could trust her, trust her in a way he could trust no one else, "How did you know?"_

_She allowed herself a faint smile, "Let's just say I'm familiar with the feeling," she closed the gap between them, "but what I've seen so far is far from disappointing, very impressive in fact."_

_He grinned, one hand automatically moving to trace the line of her lips, "Really, would you like to see more?"_

_"I'd intend to."_

And she certainly had not been disappointed.  It had been like an experience like no other, and each memory was precious.  The awed gasp when he gently slipped of her dress and the way he had whispered "You're so beautiful". Not the usual way, the way men said when they could think of nothing else, but in a way that told her he truly meant it, and wanted her to believe it too.  His body:  much more toned and firm that she had imagined, the way that it had felt against her, his skin soft and oh so smooth. The kisses and caresses, soft and loving, rough and passionate, showing what they hadn't been able to say for so long.  Soft kisses, hot trails down her body, nips on her skin, surgeons hands tracing the lines of her body, whispered words of love, it had been simply electric.  He had given her his all, such a caring and sensitive, yet passionate and exciting lover.  And she had returned the favour, learning his body, his responses, and how to tease those responses out of him, over and over again. 

And in the early hours of Christmas morning  when their lovemaking had drawn to an end, they  had lain together, content to listen to each others breathing, as they drifted off to sleep.

Elizabeth smiled to herself and turned to glance over at her lover.  Who wasn't there.  A shot of anxiety tore down her spine.  Where was he? She knew he wasn't working today.  Where had he gone? _Oh, for gods sake get a grip of yourself. It's his house he's hardly likely to run out of his own house.  He's probably in the bathroom, or making breakfast. _Even so she felt the anxiety build up, her nerves tingling. What should she say?  What should she do?  How could she feel be so in love with him, yet be terrified of seeing him in the morning? Elizabeth knew the answers even if she couldn't always admit the answers to herself.  If was simple.  She was so used to relationships going wrong, that she couldn't believe it when they seemed to be going right.  It was although she had an inbuilt self-destruct:  to terminate relationships before they get too serious.   But why should she be so nervous around Robert?  When this was something she wanted to become very serious?  Elizabeth remembered having a similar feeling with a man she had loved several years ago.  When she had tried to explain her thoughts to him, he had laughed, and said that if she did it so often, some part of her subconscious must enjoy it.  She had been shocked.  Could she enjoy it?  Why else would she keep doing it?  But then the past few, or many, years could hardly have been described as fun.  He had been wrong, and she had told him so. Only when she had said it, she hadn't entirely believed it; now she did.  

Because now, lying in Robert's bed, the sheets next to her, still warm from his body, she knew.  It was a self-defence mechanism.  Hurt others before they hurt you.  Exactly the same one that Robert himself used.  Only where he used it in everyday life, she only used it with matters of the heart.  And again, she felt a sudden surge of curiosity.  Why was he like that?  He had been hurt she was sure, but obviously in a far deeper way than she had ever been.  Who had hurt him so badly?  Would he ever be able to truly overcome that hurt?  She knew that the sarcasm was part of his defences, she couldn't imagine him without it, but surely there was some way to teach him to be slightly more open, and show him that not everybody was out to hurt him.  Maybe they could teach other.  The blind leading the blind.

She chucked quietly to herself.  The she was startled by barking near the open door, followed by a metallic clattering sound, and soft cursing.   Well somebody was having fun this morning.  She allowed herself a small smile, before closing her eyes, and waiting.

With her eyes closed her hearing seemed to be twice as sharp.  She was aware of everything, the sound of the door closing, a scrabbling noise near by, his footsteps, his breathing, a light tinkling sound.  And smell.  She could smell something wonderful, coffee, coffee and something else, food, she thought.  She heard him place something on the small bedside table, and then the bed dipped slightly beside her, as he sat next to her.  Then she could feel his soft skin brush against her face, as he kissed her cheek.  And she could feel him tracing patterns with his fingers on one of her hands, she opened her eyes and saw him, in boxers and dressing gown, staring down at her hand, fingers moving gently, he seemed mesmerised.  Then, as if sensing her gaze, he looked up and their eyes met.

"Good morning."

"Good morning Robert," she smiled, then stopped as the steady scrabbling sound at the door became louder, "what's wrong with Gretly?"

"Oh, I had a bit of a hard time getting past her carrying all that," he gestured to the table, and Elizabeth gasped.  On a the table was a tray, a tray holding, hot steaming coffee, what smelled like freshly squeezed orange juice, a full English breakfast of bacon, sausages, grilled tomatoes, fried eggs, baked beans and buttered toast, as well as a large stack of pancakes complete with maple syrup.

"Oh my god Robert.  Is this all for me?"

"Yup, I mean you must have burnt off a hefty amount of calories last night, can't have you fainting on me can I?"  his eyes were sparkling as he lifted the tray, gave her time to sit up, and place it on her lap.

"It looks wonderful.  But what about you, aren't you eating?

"Already had some toast, I don't eat a lot in the morning."

Elizabeth lifted her cutlery, preparing to tuck into the impressive meal laid out before her, when something caught her eye. A box, a medium sized velvet covered box, lay between her coffee cup and plate of pancakes.  Setting her knife and fork down again, she glanced at Robert.  He smiled, but stayed silent.  Hesitantly she picked up the box, it was fairly light, then lifted up the lid.

Inside was the most beautiful, breathtaking necklace Elizabeth had ever seen.  Although it was a relatively simple design, there was no hiding the elegance or the expense.  A stunning silver chain, and attached to it, a single diamond, blinking in the light.  Elizabeth gasped, lifting it out of the box, letting the cold metal play across her fingers. She stared in wonder, then looked at Robert, who was staring at her in uncertainty.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh Robert it's beautiful."

He smiled, all uncertainty pushed away by the sound of her voice. "Good.  In that case, happy Christmas Elizabeth."

It was a Christmas present?  But – 

"Robert I didn't get you anything."

Gently, untangling the chain from her fingers, his hands circled round her neck, underneath her hair, then a moment later they came away, leaving the necklace resting on her warm skin.

"You're here aren't you?"

That simple statement touched her more deeply than he would ever know, she leaned in close to him and kissed him lightly, "I'm glad I am."

He smiled, then ducked his head, "I hope you're gonna eat all that.  It was a nightmare trying to get up those stairs carrying it all y'know.  Gretyl thinks I've got a new favourite girl."

"Really? And have you?"

He made a show of thinking it over, "I dunno, I mean Gretyl can do some pretty neat stuff.  Can you fetch?"

Elizabeth laughed, then took on a crestfallen air, "No. No I can't."

"Mmmm, shame.  But maybe you can do some other tricks?"

"I'm sure I know a few things that could impress you."  Elizabeth grinned, then started to eat as instructed.  Between mouthfuls she asked, "Are you going to let her in?"

"Oh great. I wondered how long it would take for you two gang up on me," he rolled his eyes, before crossing the room, standing well back from the door as he opened it.  A huge furry thunderbolt thundered into the room, launching itself onto the bed.  Gretyl fussed over Elizabeth for a few minutes, before settling down at the foot of the bed. Robert laughed, shaking his head, as he crossed the room, leaving his gown on the floor, and climbing back into bed.  Spearing a pancake with the spare fork on the tray, he grinned, "Y'know, when I said I'd like to share a bed with two of my favourite girls, this wasn't exactly what I'd pictured."

"Oh no?"

"Yeah I'd always thought Gretyl would bring that nice Siberian Husky from down the road, she's got lovely eyes."

She lightly slapped his toned stomach, "Robert!"

They ate in silence for around ten minutes, Robert stealing the odd piece of food off the plate.  Then Elizabeth claimed she couldn't possible eat any more without bursting. She rested her head on Robert's shoulder, feeling his pulse, and his fingers gently running through her hair.  Outside came the faint cries of children playing in the snow, and the calls of anxious parents, telling them not to get their new clothes wet.  And some of Elizabeth's earlier thoughts came flooding back into her mind. Unanswered questions.

"Robert?"

"Mmmmmm?"

Elizabeth inhaled deeply.  She knew that this was going to be a difficult question to ask, and, certainly for him, a difficult one to answer, but she had to know.  She wanted him to trust her completely, with everything.

"What were Christmases like when you were a child?"

tbc

Ok you should know the drill by now!  Please r/r and send any other feedback to the usual address little_miss_writer@hotmail.com  Keep going all you other Romano writers! Especially Rocket Launcher, just keeps getting better and better!! I wait for more with baited breath!

Lmw

x


	7. Family Portrait

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Not entirely consistent with Romano's comments about his mother in season seven (?) but I hope it works out well. 

Please r/r!  My inbox is beginning to look empty people and you all know what that means!! lol  All constructive comments are welcomed.  Thanks to all my fellow Robbie fans for the encouragement and support, it's all very much appreciated. 

A few people have mentioned to me that in the last chapter Robert seemed a little out of character, his lines weren't too believable.  I've taken this on board, and have decided to repost chapter seven with a few minor changes, just to try and keep his character more consistent.

Chapter 7

She felt the change to through him.  Every muscle seemed to tense and tighten.  She lifted her head off his shoulder to look at him, and there in his face she saw it.  The look of pain, the look of fear, written across his face. She immediately regretted asking.  How like her, to spoil a lovely morning after an amazing night.  She should have known he wouldn't want to talk about it, known that it was far too soon in the relationship, or at least she hoped it was a relationship, to be asking such deeply personal questions.   The silence stretched on between them, a troubled, awkward silence.  He wasn't going to answer, and why should he?  Just because she was perfectly prepared to share everything, or mostly everything with him, didn't mean he felt the same way about her.  

"Robert, I'm sorry it's, it's none of my – "

He cut her off abruptly, but in a quiet, almost wavering voice, "I hated them." 

What should she do?  What could she say to that? Her mind was spinning with questions, most of them for Robert.  Why did he hate Christmas as a child?  What was his childhood like?  Suddenly he continued to speak, almost as if he has read her thoughts.  But it was in a quiet voice, little more than a whisper, his eyes took on a far away look, as though he could stare straight into the past, could see the scenes playing out before him.

"There were three of us, me, Michael and Katie. I was the youngest, Katie was the oldest, and Michael, Michael was the favourite.  Christmases were always the same; tree, gifts, turkey.  Michael's gifts were exactly what he wanted, every year, Dad spared no expense, and Katie, well she was at uni by the time  I was six, she never came home for the holidays,  so I never really had much contact with her until after.  

I was the third child, the unplanned pregnancy that just 'happened'.  Mom and Dad had decided to settle for one boy and one girl, but one night they just got lucky, or I suppose unlucky.  I was born over a month premature, seriously underweight.  The pregnancy was long and hard on my mom, she was never quite the same after it, or so dad said. 

We constantly moved around, from air base to air base.  Never staying in one town for too long.  I hated it.  I was short and skinny with flaming red hair.  And I was smart.  So, I'm sure I don't have explain how I was treated at school?"  He glanced up, eyes suddenly back in the present. 

"You were picked on." It wasn't really a question, she knew the answer.  Few people realised how cruel children could be, or how damaging could truly be.  It stayed with the victims for years after, the taunts, the threats, the beatings.

His short bark of laughter startled her, in comparison to his previous hushed tones.  "Correct Elizabeth, two plus two does equal four."  She let the sudden volley of sarcasm go without comment. It was a defence mechanism, one that she was beginning to understand more and more.  He obviously couldn't have fought his battle physically, so he had used his verbal skills instead. And probably have been hit for his comments.  Elizabeth waited, not trying to pressure him, but not wanting to let it go either.  She knew he would be embarrassed or possibly resent it if she tried to comfort him, so she let the pause pass without comment.

"Michael was six years older than me. He was a daddy's boy. Exactly like dad in every way. He was fit and strong, worked out every night in the garage, with the set of weights dad had bout him.  He got what ever he wanted, whenever.  Dad took him wherever he wanted to go. I just accepted it, I figured the oldest kid, or the oldest son was always going to be the favourite, y'know, and nothing would change that.

I remember as a kid trying hard to impress my dad.  I was smart for my age, and could run pretty fast.  Something I'd learned from school. But he didn't notice.  The more I tried the more he ignored me,. I was just an inconvenience.  Michael did the same, always copying dad.  It wasn't even like he tried to get me into trouble or anything, I could have handled that, he just acted like I wasn't there. My mom, she just followed dad's lead.  She was too afraid of upsetting him somehow.  I knew that he had hit her.  Not regularly.  Just if he'd had a bad day.  He'd had to leave the air force, cause of health grounds, though there were rumours round town that it was for disciplinary problems.  He took an office job somewhere.  And he hated it."

Silence.  He just stared.  Not at her, not at anything, his eyes were locked on something she couldn't see, couldn't understand.  He was still, save for the regular rise and fall of his chest.  She sensed there was more to the story, knew that it had to end somehow.  She lay, listening to his breathing, watching his eyes wandering in his past.  She heard him inhale deeply, his breath catching.  

"One December, when I was eight…….Michael died. It was my parents evening, at school, and Dad was taking us there. It was snowing, real bad, he kept glancing back into the rear view mirror, talking to Michael about the football." Robert paused, his breaths coming more rapidly now.  "Then……then I remember Mom screaming, trying to grab the wheel, and Dad yelling, and the horn of the other car, the impact….then, then it just went black.

Michael died of severe internal bleeding, several of his ribs had ruptured his internal organs.  He was gone before the ambulance reached the hospital.  Everyone else was ok, physically at least.

Dad blamed me.  It was my parents evening we were going to, so it was my fault.  After the funeral he just sat, drinking a bottle of whiskey, staring at a picture of Michael.  It was two days before Christmas, and I went up to him to ask if we were going to put up a Christmas tree.  And he looked at me for a moment, and then he-he, hit me.  Straight across the face.  He'd never hit me before, but then he kept going, kicking me and punching me, screaming I wasn't his son, I'd killed his only son, he hated me, he wished I was dead.  All the time mom just stood there watching.  When he'd finished he got up and went for a walk, she handed me a towel and told me to have a shower.

After that I stayed away from him, and we didn't celebrate Christmas.  I became terrified each year.  Dad would sit with a bottle of whiskey, looking thought photo albums, of when Michael was little.  Each year I would do something to upset him some how, come home late, or trail mud through the house, and he would hit me.  He was usually drunk, and I was too small to be able to stop him.  I was never out celebrating New Year with other kids, I didn't want them to see the bruises.  One year, I was fifteen, I hit him back, right in the nose, I think I broke it.  I spent that Christmas in hospital, with three broken ribs, one had just missed my lung, and a severe concussion.  They said I'd fallen down the stairs. Dad said if I ever hit him again, he'd kill me.  I believed him.

I never invited people over, hardly ever went bowling, or parties or go out trying to sneak into clubs.  The other kids assumed I was arrogant and thought I was superior to them because I was smart.  I never explained why and they never asked.  I took jobs after school to try and shorten the time I spent at home.   Everything I earned I put in a bank account I set up.  When I finished school, I announced I was going to med school.  I packed up my stuff and left.  Mom cried and tried to get me to stay, the only time I can remember her crying after Michael's funeral.  Dad just watched the tv as I left the house for the last time, he didn't say goodbye.  I never saw my dad after that.

After my first year of med school I wrote to Katie to tell her what had happened.  I hadn't seen her since the funeral, she was living her own life.  She didn't believe me at first.  Then gradually she realised I was telling the truth.  We met up a few times, but we'd never been close, too much of a difference in age.  So I settled for a casual relationship, just glad to have some family left.

Mom, I saw her over ten years later, she tried to ask for forgiveness, but I just couldn't give it.  She had stood there and watched him beat me, blame me for Michael's death.  I just couldn't accept it."

Her mind just couldn't take it all in.  In her time at County she had, of course heard tales similar, but this affected her in a way that none of the others had ever done. Because it was Robert.  The insufferable, arrogant bastard that was Robert Romano. The man who had no feelings, just enjoyed trampling on other people's.  Or at least the Romano everyone at County thought was real.  Did they ever wonder, did they even care about his past?  Ever wonder why he was so abrupt and abrasive.  Yes, she had, in her time, had wonderful daydreams about Robert coming to a very sticky end, but now.  Now she felt a sudden surge of protectiveness, to keep him safe, to be close to him in a way no one ever had before.  

"Why didn't you report it?"  

His harsh laugh returned, "Who would have believed me Lizzie?  I would have just been some kid makin' up tales because I was jealous.  And if I had gone, I don't know what he would have done to me."

Elizabeth considered this for a long time, understood his fear.  She could feel the shock slowly giving way to a swelling of anger.  Somebody should have helped him.  Saved him from such a life. She could imagine him as a child, shy, awkward, eager to please, and it had been destroyed, turned him into some one afraid to love, somebody who had never been loved.  If it wasn't for the fact that his will was so strong, he may not have made it through.

"Was it Michael's death that made you realise you wanted to be a doctor?"

He was quiet for a moment before he replied, "No.  When I woke up after the accident, and when I woke up after I'd hit dad, I remember being amazed by the doctors and nurses.  They were so dedicated and caring.  I watched them treat people, black people, white people, rich and poor, terminally ill or just with the flu.  They treated them all with such compassion, they treated them as equals.  And I remember wanting to be able to help people like that, to do something good with my life.  You may not believe me but I was a lot like Carter during my early years as a doctor."

He smiled self deprecatingly and turned away.  Elizabeth took his chin in one hand, turning him firmly, back to face her, "I don't doubt it for a second."  

Tbc

Okay just a few changes, I bet you never even noticed them. Well folks my inbox isn't filling up, and when I log in I don't see any new reviews!!!  Come on people I have a need for feedback, please let me know what you think.  As always send it to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com or r/r!!!

Thank you


	8. Let it Snow

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Hey people.  I'm so pleased so many people have supported me through this fic, it really means a lot to me.  I'm going to try to update more often now, since it's nearly Christmas, maybe I can get everything finished by then.  But I guess some things never go too smoothly….is that a hint of things to come?? Maybe! Please r/r! 

Chapter 8

"Not for a second," she repeated, her voice low, straining with emotion.  His pain touched her, and the emotions welled, fighting for dominance.  She couldn't describe how she felt, couldn't separate her feelings.  Anger.  Anger that he had not been helped, at his father, at his mother, at those who judged him without knowing his past.  Sympathy.  She felt so sorry for him, for not having a family that loved him, for not being able to look back on his childhood with pleasure, for not every having the confidence or the ability to make friends.  Pride.  Proud of him.  For standing up to his father, for putting himself through med school, pride and amazement in his ability to survive.  But there was a difference between living and surviving, he had survived, but had he ever truly lived?  Lived with somebody who loved him, whom he loved?  Visited the places he wanted to go, done the things he wanted to do, made friendships that would last for life, bought something ridiculous just for the sake of it?  Just some of the things that made life worth living.

Her hand drifted up to caress his cheek, and it was then she noticed the thin film of moisture coating his eyes.  She felt him lean into the touch, the slight stubble scraping against her skin, saw his eyes flutter shut, content.  He looked like a different person when he was relaxed.  The lines left his face, he looked younger, almost boyish.  Elizabeth wished that he would look like that more often, when the memories of the past, the stress and problems of the present did not cloud his features.  And when he laughed, his face lit up, eyes dancing, shining brightly, she didn't see it often, she hoped to be able to see more.  How she wished she could have seen him as a young resident, eager to please, desperate to help those who so dearly needed aid.  So young, so brave, so compassionate.  No, it did not surprise her in the least for him to compare himself to Carter.  She could see the links in their lives, the pain and torment they'd been through, the fact they still cared more for the lives of others that themselves.  But Carter had had help and support in his time of need, who had helped Robert?  Carter was a symbol of hope to Elizabeth, she respected him, knew that, despite his years, live had thrown more than his fair share of pain at him, but he had persevered, he had succeeded. 

When his eyes reopened, the unshed tears had vanished, to be spent another day, someday soon, or in the distant future, either way, she wanted to be there, to comfort him, to help him. She knew that crying was sometimes the only way to finally let go, to stop clinging on to the past, she had done it herself many times over the years.  But no, the tears in his eyes had gone, replaced instead, by the usual glint, the sparkle, along with his customary half smile.

"And I was twice as cute."

Elizabeth laughed, his ability to find humour in any situation had fascinated her during their first tension filled surgeries together, she was sure, no matter how long she knew him, it would never cease to amaze her, "Now that I have some trouble believing."

Robert's eyebrows headed skyward, "You don't think I was cute? Y'hear that Gretyl?  Elizabeth here doesn't know how devilishly cute I was, I think you're back to being my favourite girl. Gretyl?  Sheeshd, you'd think she had been up all night or something?" That smile again, suggestive, echoed in the sparkle of his eyes.

"Now I never said that you weren't cute.  I merely said that I have a little trouble believing you were twice as cute as Carter."

"Oh really?  So I have some competition do I?"  He was only joking of course, she knew that, they were just sparring, as usual.  But she was struck by a sudden urge to tell him the truth.  To tell him the few short days they had spent together, had been like no others.  Spending time with him was something she would never tire of, something that she never wanted to end. She loved him, loved his touch, his voice, the way they felt together. .But what about him?  He trusted her in a way he trusted no other, he showed a side of himself, a vulnerable, secret side.  She thought he loved her, hoped he did.  But would he be able to say it? Did he want to say it?

"Maybe,"_ Oh well, so much for speaking your mind._

"Mmmmm," he regarded her for a moment, and she could see something he was thinking.  Then swiftly rolled, digging his fingers into her ribs.  Elizabeth squealed, lashing out with her legs, covers flying,  narrowly missing Gretyl, who, most upset by her awakening, jumped off the bed and padded out the room.  Desperately Elizabeth tried to get some hold of Robert, but he remained infuriatingly out of reach, tickling her maddeningly. 

"Robert – oh, stop it-it Robert!"

He shook his head, while his fingers ran over her body, taunting and teasing her, "Nope.  Come on, whose cuter?"

"I-I-I'm not saying." But she knew her voice didn't sound convincing, she could hardly speak through the giggles, could barely breath.  After one night he knew her body so well, knew how to coax different reactions out of her, but then of course, he had the hands of a surgeon.

"Come on now," his voice was light and teasing, the amusement glinting in his eyes.

An idea came to her suddenly, amidst the giggling and threat of tears.  She could beat him at his own game, all it would take would be a bit of persuasion. Feminen charms, if she possessed any.  She motioned to him to move closer, "I'll only whisper it," she tried to make her voice low and inviting.

Grinning, Robert obliged, leaning in close to her, tickling momentarily abandoned, "Uh huh?"

"Well, I think – "  Elizabeth reached out quickly, aiming for Roberts ribs, but his hands caught hers easily, securing them in a sure grip. 

"You think I'm that easily fooled Lizzie? I would have thought you know better by now."  With a swift move he straddled her, pinning her arms above her head with one hand, the other gently tracing circles on her stomach.  "Obviously you don't pay any attention to me at all."

Elizabeth felt her skin tingle, almost burn under his touch, adrenaline flooding through her body.  But she wasn't going to let him win that easily. Oh no. He move in towards her, when she grabbed him tight and rolled forcing them over, and over.  Too far. She managed to stop but it was too late.

"Ow Jesus Christ Lizzie!" A minor miscalculation, she thought.  Well, slightly more than that.  Robert lay flat on his back on the floor, as she peered over the bed sheepishly.  Her plan had worked, well if the bed had been wider.

"You need a bigger bed Robert."

"No I need to find somebody whose not a gymnast to share it with." She watched as Robert sat up somewhat gingerly, while tied up in the duvet and dressing gown.

"I'm hurt by that Robert."

"Yeah? Well so am I. Literally."

Elizabeth laughed, enjoying the moment.  It was amazing how quickly the mood could change with Robert.  He was a far more emotional man than most people realised.

He looked up at her from his landing spot. "Well I s'pose we should get up anyway, although I would have preferred a less energetic or painful approach."  

He stood up, fixing his dressing gown, while she scrambled out of bed, wrapping the duvet around herself.  

"Very Julius Ceaser Lizzie, but maybe you'd prefer one of my larger gowns?" She waited as he rummaged around in a few drawers, before throwing a dark blue robe at her. "There you go."

"Thank you Robert."  She looked at the dressing gown, it _might_ just come past her knees.

"I'll go make some coffee." 

Elizabeth took a more detailed look at the room while she dressed.  Very Spartan.  No family photographs, well she knew the reason now, very little by way of personalisation, much like the rest of the house. It was nice to look at.  But a little cold, emotionless, empty even.

She was half way down the stairs, in what had turned out to be, a ridiculously short gown, when the phone rang. She thought nothing of it until Robert's tone changed dramatically.

"Hello?"  that was fine, fairly cheerful, maybe a little annoyed at being disturbed on Christmas, but apart from that.

Flat, any emotion drained. "Oh. Yes.  Merry Christmas.  No, not working for a few days.  Uh huh.  Yeah?  What is it? Sorry?  He wants what?  Well it's a bit late. No, no way.  How can you even – "

She mentally kicked herself when Robert glanced up, to see her hovering at the top of the first flight of stairs.  

"Look I've got to go mom.  Merry Christmas."

He put the phone down, not even glancing at her, then turned back to making the coffee.  Elizabeth managed to make her way down the rest of the stairs, despite her mind spinning.  His mother had phoned him.  Who had they been talking about?  What did this other person want?

"Milk, sugar?"

Well he obviously didn't want to talk about it, or even acknowledged it had happened. But she could see the way his knuckles whitened around the mug, the way he avoided her eyes.

"Milk no sugar."

Silence.  While the kettle boiled there was not another sound in the house, save for their breathing.  The tension seemed to suddenly have come from nowhere.  Neither spoke, neither made eye contact.  The kettle seemed to be taking an age.  Finally Robert looked to her.  "You wanna go for a walk?"

That wasn't what she had expected, "Now?  I don't have anything to wear."

"We can stop at your house."

"Ok."  A walk?  A walk where?

Shortly she sat in Robert's car, dressed in her outfit from the night before, Gretyl napping in the back seat.  Robert wasn't talking.  In fact since they had left the house he hadn't said a word, except to ask for directions to her apartment.  And the confusion about the phone call, which had previously been clogging her mind, had been replace by a more worrying matter.  Where were they going?  And what if somebody from County was to see them? What would they say?  What would Robert want to say?  When she was with Robert, in his house, she had wanted to cry her love from the roof tops. But now?  How would people react at County? Weaver, Benton, Anspaugh?  Gossip spread like wildfire in a hospital, and Count was no different.  And what of their careers?  Romano's track record with woman working for him would be enough to raise more than a few eyebrows about their relationship. Some may think that she was pressurised into such an arrangement, that she was hoping sleeping with the boss would help her career. Romantic relationships between colleges were generally frowned upon, especially if one of the people involved was in a high position, such as Chief of Staff.

Elizabeth knew it was something that had to be discussed.  If they weren't seen today, then it would be the next day or the day after.  And how were they supposed to behave at work?  Pretend nothing was going on?  Go through day after day with out talking to him, touching him, seeing him smile?  She couldn't, if this was going to be the price of their relationship, Elizabeth wasn't sure she was willing to pay.  

But Robert had said nothing.  Was he even considering the complications of their relationship?  He didn't even seem to notice she was there? His mind was on something else she was sure, but what was it?

She didn't notice the car had stopped.

"We're here Elizabeth."

Without a word she stepped out the car, her mind on autopilot.  _Just get changed and go for a walk, then he'll tell you, then he'll let you in._

She was changed within a few minutes, dressed in far warmer and more appropriate clothes.  Wordlessly she slipped back into the car. Robert said nothing.  And they were driving.  Elizabeth stared out at the world from the leather coated interior of Robert's BMW.  Children playing, people running for the Christmas sales, couples out walking in the light shower of snow.  Despite this the roads were fairly quiet, and Robert guided the car through the snow stained streets.  Finally they pulled up, at one of the smaller parks in Chicago. Everything was coated in a blanket of snow, several inches thick, undisturbed.  A white winter paradise.

"My father wants to talk."

The words were so quiet, so low, she wasn't sure if he really had spoken. She waited for him to say more.  Instead he got out the car, let Gretyl out of  the back, and walked off, into the lightly falling snow. 

Tbc

Usual message, please r/r, feedback to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com, keep those reviews coming in.  It may be a little boring at the moment, but just be patient for a little while longer.


	9. Cold as Ice

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Ok, so my "update more often" policy hasn't exactly worked very well.  I assure you there are good reasons for my lack of updates, sorry.  But it's nearly Christmas, so I'm sure you're all feeling generous enough to forgive me!  Oh, in answer to one person's question: the Christmas sales start on Christmas day, sometimes before that where I live, trust me on Christmas day the shops can be packed, so that's why Robert and Elizabeth encountered Christmas shoppers during their drive (which was on Xmas day).  Anyway, on with the story.  (I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, so any constructive comments are welcome, as always)

Chapter 9

"Oh no you don't."  Elizabeth felt a sudden, irrational wave of anger surge through her. Typical Robert Romano.  Create a scene then disappear, leaving somebody else to pick up the pieces.  How could he do that?  Just drop a bombshell like that on her and then walk away?  What was it exactly he expected her to do? Was she supposed to go after him, or just sit and wait like a good girl until he chose to return?  Relationships were supposed to be about sharing problems, about listening to each other, letting each other in.  But she was constantly pushing him, pressing for information, nothing was given with out her pressurising him in some way. That wasn't the way it was supposed to be. But at the same time she knew how difficult it had been for him, just revealing parts of his past with her.  She was the only person he trusted, but that childish voice in the back of her mind plagued her.  _If he trusts you that much then he should be able to tell you everything.  Why doesn't he?  Why do you have to run around after him all the time?_

"Oh bloody hell."  Pulling on her gloves, she got out the car, bracing herself against the biting cold, teeth chattering as the cotton balls of snow slowly settled on her face, her hair, turning her from warm to shivering in an instant.  But the bitter cold did nothing to cool her temper. She slammed the door, a little more strongly than necessary, and heard the noise of the impact echo in the otherwise deserted park.  Peering through the white haze she could just make out his figure, a dark shadow in a white haven, staring out over the frozen lake, Gretyl sombre, sitting by her master's side.  Feet sinking deeper into the snow with every step, she trudged over to him, cursing the Chicago weather under her breath.  She came to a stop a few metres behind him.

"Robert?" He didn't acknowledge her, made no sign of having heard her, just continued to stare out into the snow covered world.

She could feel the anger flowing through her, rising to the surface, overwhelming her concern and curiosity.  Just what the hell was she supposed to do, what was she supposed to say?  He dragged her out here, on Christmas day for what exactly, to stand and stare at ice all day?

"Robert for god's sake will you just say something?"  

The moment the words left her mouth she regretted them.  She saw the way he reacted to the harsh tone of her voice, the way his body suddenly snapped, almost to attention. She heard him choke back a startle breath, or maybe it was a sob, and her heart wrenched.  

"Robert, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to shout, I just want to help. But you're going to have to tell me what's happened."

Silence.

She was struggling to stay in control of her emotions.  She was frustrated, curious and concerned all at the same time. Each fought for dominance.  She wanted to help him, but how could she if he wouldn't speak to her? If he didn't let her in, then she couldn't help him.  Even after unburdening so much of his past, he still didn't feel entirely comfortable.  What did she have to do? But she knew that most of the anger was not directed at Robert, in truth it was directed at his father.  He had caused Robert so much pain, why did he suddenly want to make contact now?  Was it not bad enough to crush his spirit and his body year after year?  Now he had to phone on Christmas day, bring back so many memories, brining with him the ghosts of Roberts past.

"He wants to talk." He didn't turn to face her, didn't even glance in her direction, his voice was low, monotone. "After all this time, he's decided that he wants to come round and sit down over lunch, chat about the ball game, share a few beers."

Elizabeth was split.  On one hand she was amazed, after all this time Roberts father chose now to contact his son.  She could hardly believe his nerve, the pure selfishness behind his decision, now he wanted to talk, he assumed Robert wanted the same.  How dare he? To imagine he could just walk back into Roberts life without question. Yet on the other hand, she appreciated that time was precious, that life passed them all by far too quickly.  Perhaps it was better that they resolved their problems, before the gap between them became too wide to bridge.  The past could not have been easy on Roberts father, though she certainly didn't condone his actions, was in fact disgusted by them, she did understand that grief could sometimes push people to terrible acts.  Robert could never truly forgive him, but surely a truce, of some description would be better than their current relationship.

"How do you feel about it?"

His voice was lower now, nearly a whisper, "How do I feel?"  He whirled round to face her, "I don't have a god damn clue.  No actually, scratch that, I do know how I feel.  I wish he would die, I wish he would die and leave me the hell alone," he was shouting now, voice high and splitting, cutting through the calm of the park like a knife.  "I want him to be in the same pain, feel the same terror that I did, have no one to turn to, nothing to do but suffer through and hope that someday help will come.  That's how I feel, Elizabeth, I want him to die." 

The pure venom in his voice, the hatred, almost frightened her. Robert's hot temper was practically a legend at County, he didn't think twice about dressing down a member of staff, or arguing with Weaver in full hearing of the other doctors and patients, but this was like nothing she had ever seen before. The pain and anguish seemed almost to radiate off of him.  His hands were clenched tightly at his sides, knuckles white, the blood seemed to have drained from his face, he looked ready to faint.  But his eyes.  They scared her.  They were free of tears, but seemed almost to burn with hatred, with anger and with sincerity.  He meant what he said and it scared her. 

"Robert you're upset, do you really mean that?" _Say no, deny it, please deny it._

"Yes."  He stepped towards her suddenly, and she found herself stepping back, almost as though she had been struck.  He must have seen the fear in her eyes, registered that he had caused it because he quickly withdrew.  For the first time he looked scared, frightened by the emotions which had taken control of him.  She watched as he fought for control, making an effort to calm himself, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.  "No, I-I-I don't know what I really mean." 

"Robert I-"

"Could we just walk please?" His voice sounded strained.  

"Alright."

They walked silently. Gretyl sensing their discontentment, padded behind them, head and tail hung as she followed.  Neither of them spoke as they made their way through the snow, each lost in their own thoughts.  Elizabeth ran over the events of the past few hours in her mind, and was again amazed by the sudden changes in mood, how one phone call could change a person so much.  But what truly bothered her, was her reaction to his outburst.  For an instant she had been scared of him, frightened that he would lash out. Could she continue to stand by somebody that she was frightened of? Would he ever hit her?

"Does it snow a lot in England?" His question disturbed her line of thought but she was relieved to hear that his voice seemed less strained, more relaxed.

"Not as a rule.  But it generally depends where in England you are."

"D'you like it?"

"The snow?  I don't know Robert, I've not really thought about it.  As a child I like it, I liked the way it altered everything."

"How so?"

"Well it covers everything, forms a blanket.  It changes the appearance, makes everything seem beautiful and clean – "

"Hides what you don't want to see you mean?"

"Only for a time.  But when the snow goes everything is still there, just as it was, before the snow – "

Snow. It was cold, incredibly cold, numbing almost, she couldn't see, couldn't breath, it was so cold.

Robert's voice seemed awful far away, "Lizzie! Are you ok?"

She had tripped, and managed to find the largest possible snow drift to land in.  She was partially buried, turning, she could just see Robert peering down at her.  

Gingerly Elizabeth tested her arms and legs, "I'm fine, nothing hurt except my pride I think."

"Oh well, nothing serious then," He extended a hand, then suddenly retracted it. "Mmmmm now.  Should I let you up, or you could stay there and admire the snow, since you like it." 

"Robert Romano, you had better help me up right now or, or, or – "

"Or what Lizzie?" Robert peered down at her, smiling sweetly, the picture of innocence.

"Or I'll set Gretyl on you, us girls have to stick together."  

Robert cast a glance over  to Gretyl, who was engrossed in trying to dig herself a burrow in the snow.  "I think you're on your own for this one Lizzie, but cause I'm such a kind and generous soul, I'll help you up.  But none of that pulling me down there with you stuff ok?"

"Would I?

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

He offered his hand again, this time she took it, and was hauled to her feet.  It wasn't much warmer on her feet, the snow was caked in her hair, and had slid down the back of her neck.  If she wasn't careful, she'd be going into County tomorrow with one hell of a cold.

She suddenly caught Robert's eye, and he reached up, to brush a few clumps of snow out of her hair, and then gently brought his hand down to caress her cheek. She stood, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation, his warm skin a welcome contrast to the icy snow down her neck and back. 

"I scared you didn't I?"

At that she felt her eyes snap open, to focus on his face.  He held her gaze a little sadly, gently brushing her cheek.  What was he talking about?

Seeing the need to clarify his question, "My earlier little…outburst," a wry smile, "I scared you didn't I?"

"No Robert of course – "

"Don't lie to me Elizabeth," Elizabeth, not Lizzie, he was deadly serious, "I saw it in your eyes.  Did you think I was going to hit you?"

"No Robert, I know you'd never do that"

"Do you?"

Did she?  Did she know for certain that he would never do anything like that?  Victims of past abuse sometimes lashed out, years after the horrific events they had suffered through.  The anger was almost always directed at whomever had caused their pain, but they rarely had access to these people.  So they vented their frustrations on the nearest available person, often the very person trying to help.  She had seen the anger in his eyes, not at her, but at his father for his abuse, at his mother for just standing by and watching it happen, at those at County who completely misjudged him.  Anger could drive people to commit terrible acts.  It could consume a person's soul.  And Robert had plenty reasons to be angry.  Despite her earlier moment of fear, something inside told her that Robert would never hit her. She didn't know what it was, or where it came from, but she was going to trust it.

"Yes."

He stared at her for a long while, studying her features, looking for any hint of doubt.  She held his gaze, trying to convey her feelings, to tell him that she trusted him, that she loved  him, that she would stand by him.

He broke eye contact, a mix of emotions running across his face which she couldn't interpret. "C'mon, better get you home, your out early tomorrow."

"You know what they say.  No rest for the wicked."

Tbc

Hey

Blah, blah, blah.  You all know what I'm going to say. Please r/r, comments to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com  I'm sure you all know my address off by heart by now!! lol.  Keep the reviews coming in.

Hope everybody has a happy holiday, nothing says Merry Christmas like a kind review!!

Lmw

x


	10. Chaos

Title: In From the Cold

Author: little_miss_writer

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

I'm sorry!!! I can't believe I've not updated for so long!! For those of you that actually like this story my sincere apologies.  I promise more updates soon. I'd also like to apologise for the liberties that I've taken with certain medical terms.  I have no idea what half of them mean, I'm not a doctor!  I just try to use them to help the story flow!! Oh and I'd like to congratulate Rocket Launcher on a fantastic end to her story.  But you're gonna have to write another one soon!! Keep the reviews coming in, send any feed back to little_miss_writer@hotmail.com, or r/r!

Oh and season nine is well on it's way over hear in Scotland.  We just had "A Hopeless Wound" a wonderful episode.  If we see more of Rocket like that I'll be happy!!

Chapter 10

"Carter where are the charts for the Father Christmas in Curtain three?  How exactly am I supposed to do a surgical consult if I don't know the patients history?" Elizabeth tried to school the impatience out of her voice, but her success was limited.  Even to herself she sounded tired, impatient and irritated. With good reason.  It was Boxing Day at County General, and it was as though the gates of hell had been opened and the patients of the devil had been unleashed. They were all the usual Boxing Day suspects:  middle aged men, who after eating far too much over Christmas, thought their indigestion was a heart attack, and of course those who thought their heart attacks were simple indigestion, broken limbs from falls on the ice, kids who had eaten part, or all of their presents, and the most common and least well received, drunk drivers. All that on top of the usual patients that could be found anytime during the year: cancer patients, gallstones, shootings, stabbings, overdoses, and allergic reactions.  County was packed to bursting point, almost every available doctor, on leave or not, had been called in to assist.  Major traumas were being sent to Mercy and Rush, who were in turn sending their traumas to County.  Security was stretched to breaking point, trying to keep calm in a hospital full of irritable staff and patients that are even more irritable. And if those carol singers didn't stop belting out "Tis the Season to be Jolly" she would be in severe danger of violating her oath.

Carter glanced up from the abdominal x-ray he was examining, showing what appeared to be various pieces of a doll. He'd been here before Elizabeth's shift had started at half six, his youthful features looked pale and tired, "I don't know Dr Corday, ask Abby. I'm still tryin' to handle the kid that ate his action man."  He tried a weak smile.

She returned his smile and shook her head, "Dear lord, that's the third one today."

"Yeah, and there's another two waiting in chairs. Gotta love Boxing Day huh?"

"I'm sure." 

Weaving her way to admit, she went past an arguing couple, children playing hide and seek and being reprimanded by their parents, a group of carol singers with frostbite, patients on beds in the halls, patients arguing and complaining in chairs, doctors calling for tests, nurses trying to track down doctors, paramedics bringing in new cases and security guards trying to contain a fight between three wise men.  It was pandemonium.  Everybody was raising their voices to be heard above the din, patients yelling at doctors, patients yelling at each other, doctor arguing, yelling for nurses. 

" –  you mean you slept with her?  You're supposed to be fucking gay you bastard – "

" – stay where daddy and I can see you I won't tell you – "

" – I'm gonna lose my finger, I know I am, I'm – "

" – I want to see a doctor, I've been waiting four hours – "

" – I want to see Dr Carter he's cute – "

" – I'm gonna be sick – "

" – where's Mr Anderson's chart? I just put it down – "

" – you mean Mercy's sending us traumas?  Get on the phone and tell 'em no way – "

 She found Abby underneath a pile of charts arguing with Frank, who was trying to speak into two phones at the same times, while Mark and Luka were trying in vain to devise a strategy   to clear the two boards.  "Abby?  The chart for Mr Evens?"

"Who?"

"The Father Christmas in three?"

"Oh.  Carter had it last."

She sighed heavily.  It was too much.  She'd been here since six thirty, she'd missed breakfast, she was hungry, tired and frustrated and her head hurt, . "Never mind. It's one fifty five, unless anybody has an objection, I'm going for lunch. Page me when you find it please."

The canteen was far busier than she had expected.  Doctors and nursed from all over County where there, trying to catch a bite to eat before their absence was noticed.  Settling down with a turkey sandwich, she really despised the holiday season, she allowed her eyes to drift around the room, and her mind to wander. 

Soft jazz drifted out of the car speaker as they talked.  Nothing personal, nothing serious, just light chat, the weather, the surgical schedule, on why British comedy was far funnier than the "tripe" American's release, or in her opinion anyway.  They did not mention the events in the park, or in Robert's house, she didn't ask about his father and she didn't ask how Robert was feeling.  It just didn't seem appropriate.  It had been a wonderful day but at the same time a heart wrenching horrible one.  Best just to let him set the tone.   One step forward, two steps back.

_Conversation moved to work, other hospitals in the area, other surgeons, hospital politics. She laughed when Robert impersonated, frightfully accurately, the head of surgery at Rush, and happily argued with him over the differences between British and American surgical techniques. Then all too soon they arrived outside Elizabeth's door.  Robert turned off the engine, and gave her a sympathetic half smile, "Early shift tomorrow?"_

_"Yes," she sighed, "Half six on Boxing Day."_

_"Awwwww, poor you. You've gotta love the holiday season at County.  The joys of indigestion, people begging for antibiotics for the flu, the usual druggies and drunks."_

_"Not that you'll be experiencing any of that tomorrow."_

_He laughed, "Somebody's bitter.  I'll be in the day after tomorrow.  I've got three hernias scheduled, then a meeting with some financial idiot, and at some point I'm gonna have to talk to Weaver. And you think your day's gonna be bad."_

_"You have to work on giving sympathy, you know that don't you?" She smiled at him._

_"I know, one of the few talents I have not yet mastered.."  He laughed then stopped suddenly, catching her eyes, making sure he had her attention,  "I wanted to thank you."_

_"What for?"  The response was automatic, but she knew what he meant and was touched by his gratitude._

_"You know what for."  He leaned in and she felt his lips brush briefly against hers. "Bye Elizabeth."_

_She smiled, "Bye Robert." _

_Later, when she had curled up in front of the television, she had reflected on the events of the past week or so and was amazed by the change that just one person could bring.  How her opinion of somebody could change so quickly.  In fact – _

"Dr Corday?" A voice cut into her memories, "Dr Corday?"

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present, "Sorry?"

"Your pager."  A young doctor, whom she recognised from radiology, smiled at her apologetically.

"Oh, thank you."

How long had her pager been going off? Considering the looks she was getting from some people, it must have been some time.  How mortifying, she shouldn't be daydreaming at work, how long had she been sitting here?  Her sandwich was untouched, her coffee stone cold.  

Picking up her sandwich and stuffing it into her pocket, it could keep till later, she headed down to the ER.

Chaos revisited.  She could have been upstairs for hours and nothing would have changed. Had anybody actually been discharged yet? Or did they just come in and stay? Battling her way though the packed corridors, she yelled over to Carter.  "What have we got?"

"RTA, head on collision, three victims, one guy, one woman, and a child."

"ETA?"

"Anytime – "

Sirens screeched outside, an instant later the doors burst open, the first gurney was wheeled in, Weaver close behind it, "Elizabeth, you and Carter with this one, trauma one, Mark and Luka take the woman, somebody clear out trauma two, Susan you and me with the girl. Let's move people.  Frank, is Anspaugh in yet? Two of them look like they'll need surgery."

"Dr Weaver, Anspaugh's in South Africa for Christmas."

"Dammit, which surgeons do we have?  No, I don't care, call in Romano."

"He won't be happy Dr Weaver – "

"Dammit Frank just do it." 

Elizabeth fell in line with Carter next to the gurney as the paramedic rattled off the history.  

"Looks like a hemothorax. How did it happen?"

"He was drunk - head on collision - wearing a seatbelt - unconscious for the past ten minutes Merry Christmas huh?"

"Do we have any ID?"

"No."

They turned into trauma one.  "Poor breath sounds, get a chest x-ray, we need a chest tube."

While Elizabeth it struck her again, as it always did, how the trauma team acted like a well-oiled machine.  Everybody knew their job, knew their place, followed instructions, co-operated flawlessly.  But it wasn't going to be enough to save their patient, if he didn't get to an OR soon, the bleeding was getting heavier.

"Stats are dropping Dr Corday."

"Phone upstairs, he needs to get to an OR now before he bleeds out, and somebody try and find his next of kin."

The doors burst open, a nurse carrying blood packs ran in.

"I said four packs."

"This is all they've got Dr Corday."

"Stats still dropping."

"Dammit – "

"Now now Lizzie, this is hardly grace under pressure is it?"

Elizabeth tried to control the grin that immediately surfaced, despite her tiredness, when she heard Robert's voice.  She turned to see Robert in scrubs, standing, arms folded, eyebrows raised.

"I'm sure you'd know plenty about that Robert – "

Carter hung up the phone, "OR two is free."

"Ok lets go," She turned to address Romano "Now Robert if you wouldn't mind lending a hand."

"Anything at all Lizzie," he strode up to her as she and Carter started to manoeuvre the bed, "what have we got?"

"Male, approximately early 60's, head on collision, suspected hemothorax, bleeding profusely, doesn't look like he has long, no ID."

"Drunk?"

"Yes."

"Surprise, surprise, who else was involved?"

"A mother and her young daughter."

She watched as Robert shook his head, "Not content with screwing up his own life, three for the price of one."

"So it seems."

He turned and bellowed down the corridors, "C'mon people out the way! Let's move, before he and I die of waiting!  C'mon let's get – "

He stopped speaking, mid sentence. She turned to look at him as they strode down the crowded corridors; his eyes were fixed on the bloodstained face of their patient.  Robert's face was blank, expressionless, and ash grey.

"Robert?  Robert?"

They were at the elevator, the team anxiously waiting. "Robert?  Robert do you know this person?"

Eyes glazed he stared at her, not seeming to comprehend the question, the elevator doors opened, people spilled out, hurrying out the way, as they rolled the gurney in, Frank shouted above the din from the admit desk, "Dr Corday, your drunk guy is one Michael Romano, we're tryin' to locate his wife and kids now."

Romano. Oh good god.  She looked at Robert, and understood in an instant.

"Robert is this – " her voice cracked, but he answered her in a whisper.

"He's my father."

Tbc

Hey

Well I'm not pleased with this one.  I apologise for the medical errors, I did try to keep the medical stuff to a minimum and I'm not a doctor, so please don't complain too much.  Not much Robert/Elizabeth action in this one, but there will be soon.  Please tell me what you think; it's the usual address little_miss_writer@hotmail.com or r/r.  I'll probably repost this chapter but for the moment it's on with chapter 11 if you all r/r!!

 lmw

x


	11. Time Stood Still

Title: In From the Cold

Author: littlemisswriter

Rating: R

Disclaimer:  I own nothing unfortunately.  Elizabeth Corday, Robert "Rocket" Romano (Warner Bros, Michael Crichton and a variety of other lucky, lucky people.  I wish I did own them, but I don't.   This is a work of fiction so nobody get upset ok?

Notes:  A few things to know.  In this story Elizabeth is not involved with Mark, so no marriage and no Ella.  Takes place sometime before "Lockdown".  It's just a nice little piece about Romano and Corday's friendship. I have read the season nine spoilers (I wish I hadn't!), but nothing is given away here at all, so its entirely safe.  Also, I'm British and so is my spelling, you have been warned!

Feedback:  theallknowingonehotmail.com

Update:  Changes to chapter 11, cause in all honesty, it sucked to start with!  Next chapter up soon.  Season 10 just finished across here, I have to admit I missed a lot of it with Uni and stuff.  And I'm just simply not acknowledging what they did to Robert!

Chapter 11

Time stood still.  Something Elizabeth had never experienced.  To her it had always been an awful cliché, something people said without thinking, a pointless exaggeration, for time could never truly stand still.  When one was enjoying themselves it seemed to fly by, in the middle of a twelve-hour shift, it seemed to drag its heel reluctantly, but really, it always moved at the same time, the only thing that changed was a person's perception.

Not this time.  Now, for her, time had truly stopped .  The noises of the crowded corridor, the sounds of the staff, patients and machines, died down to a steady hum, barely registering in Elizabeth's mind. The people and objects around her seemed to just fade away, apart from one. 

Roberts face registered pure shock, his eyes glazed, his face grey.  Elizabeth could not even begin to comprehend what he was feeling, what he was thinking.  What was behind the initial shock? Anger?  Hatred? Fear? She reached out for his hand, to give it a reassuring squeeze, to try and say that it was going to be alright, whatever alright was in the circumstances, if –

"Dr Corday, stats are dropping, he needs to go up now."  Carter was looking at her, everybody had heard Franks announcement, and Carter and the nurses were more than capable of working out who the man in the gurney really was.  The nurses were looking at Romano with a mixture of shock and pity, but Carters eyes held something different, something Elizabeth couldn't quite decipher, and now she didn't have the time.

Pull yourself together Elizabeth.  "Right, we're going up." she turned to Robert, "Robert we've got to go, I – "

"Dr Romano you're needed in OR four now, the little girls in a bad way."  Frank called out.

"Robert – "

"Dr Corday, stats still dropping, we've got to go now."

"Tell them I'm on my way Frank."

"Robert, I – " 

She turned back to Robert, but he was gone, lost in a sea of white coats and blue scrubs.

"That's it.  All done.  David would you like to close up?  He seems to have come through it nicely.  With a little luck in post-op recovery, he should recover reasonably well."

Elizabeth looked down at their patient, no, not just any patient, but Robert's father.  Robert who was her, well, what he was exactly was uncertain at this point, more than a friend certainly, but so much more so that he could be called a lover, her lover?  Perhaps, perhaps not.  And now his father lay in front of her in the OR. She felt torn.  On one hand, this was he man who had abused Robert, wrongly blamed him for his brother's death, offered no support, mocked his dreams and aspirations.  And she could not help but feel, that somehow, he had received no more than he deserved.  She could not bring herself to pity him.  Yet, he was her patient.  And as such, she had a duty to care for him, despite her own personal feelings.  It was the same for all of her patients, the drunks, the drug addicts, the rapists, the murders.  She treated them all, at least she tried to, with respect and kindness.  Of course, some were more trying than others, some did not deserve her help or her sympathy, but that was not the issue.  As a doctor she was bound to heal the sick and wounded, and her first loyalty was always to her patients, well, almost always.

The procedure had gone well, despite having no senior surgeon present, although it had lasted perhaps a little longer than Elizabeth would have liked.  She wondered if Robert was still in OR four with thee little girl.  Yet another victim of his father.

 Elizabeth's OR team had responded well, asking no questions when they had read the name on the chart, or noticed the rather striking resemblance, that now seemed to be obvious, to their chief of staff.  As she turned to leave to scrub out, Shirley's voice called out to her "Give Dr Romano our best."  Elizabeth could detect no hint of sarcasm or irony, and given Shirley's turbulent relationship with Robert, even more so than her own, she could not help but smile gratefully.

Soaping her hands and then rinsing them, Elizabeth found herself questioning, how many times the, now helpless man in the OR, had washed the blood of his son from his own hands.  How had he felt? Had be been so drunk that even the slightest strain of guilt had not penetrated his mind?  After hearing Roberts story, the man could not be seen to be anything but a monster.  Yet, now, he appeared before her as a frail and helpless old man, one that could possibly never completely recover from his accident. For the present moment at least, he appeared human

She had now idea how Robert would react to the events of the last few hours.  He had surely put two and two together, to realise that his father had been travelling to visit him when he had ploughed into the woman's car.  He had been drunk, so drunk that he couldn't keep his car in a straight line.  Why had he been drinking?  To build up some Dutch courage before apologising to his son?  No, that didn't seem entirely plausible.  So that he could assault his son again without having to remember it the next day?  Or without being plagued by guilt? That sounded more likely.  Her mind could barely make sense of the events of the last few days, from blissful happiness, to utter horror.  Would Robert close himself off from her again?  Or would he accept her help?  She wasn't even sure how she could help.  What was the right thing to say in such a situation? 

She reached Roberts office, still lost in thought, and drew herself up in front of his door. Deep breath.  _Well, this is it._

She knocked lightly on the door. No response.  She knocked again and paused, thinking.  Perhaps he was still in the OR, the operation for the young girl could have taken a turn for the worse. Dammit, why didn't she check at admit? Perhaps he needed a helping hand, considering they were so short staffed during the festive season.  Cursing under her breath, she turned to leave. 

"Come in."

The voice was so quiet, so weary, that she nearly missed it.  Hesitating for only a second, she walked into his office.

Robert sat behind his desk, still in his scrubs, bloodstained, head bowed, writing slowly on what appeared to be the first sheet on a small mountain of papers.  He looked up.  "Hello Elizabeth."

Elizabeth.  Not Lizzie. 

"Robert."  He looked like hell.  His face was still ashen, dark circles under his eyes, striking a harsh contrast. She closed the door behind her, and waited for him to say something, something to help her determine the course of the conversation, which line to take. 

Silence. 

It stretched before her, creating a vast chasm between them, one which she had no idea how to cross.  What to say?  Should she tell him the details of the operation?  Say that his father was alive and well?  Would he even want to know? Should she ask how the little –

" – She's dead."

TBC.

Well, I hope that's a slight improvement!  Feedback to theallknowingonehotmail.com (new address cause my other one is now getting constantly spammed!)


End file.
